Seven Hundred Fifty Hours
by Bucket on the Head
Summary: Sam has a new babysitter, and his name just so happens to be FREDDIE BENSON! DISCONTINUED WILL BE REDONE
1. Nerd Shakes the World of Sam

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter One:**

_Nerd Shakes the World of Sam_

**Samantha Puckett**

I am known by everyone as the rebel, the bad girl. I cause havoc and trouble amongst my fellow peers and get minimal punishments by my parents, but now, they've gone too far...

_"Samantha Puckett!"_

_I groaned, she was going to lecture me again today, or make me do the dishes, I could feel it._

_"Yes, mother?"_

_"You have been offensively rowdy this past month, and your father and I have decided to take away some of your privileges!"_

_I gave her a pout, but inwardly, I scoffed. What could they possibly take that was as drastic as not letting me have ham like they did last year?_

_"Like what?"_

_"Well, for starters, no ham," UGH! "and you will not be allowed to sleep over at Carly's house, both for the next month."_

_I cried out, "But what about iCarly!?"_

_She gave me her "were-you-even-listening?" look._

_"I said no _sleeping over_, and there's one more thing."_

_I yanked at my blonde hair as I complained to my mother, "What else could you POSSIBLY take away?"_

_"Your father and I feel that you should not be allowed to be left alone in the house-remember when you left the stove on and almost burnt the house down? Just until you learn to be a responsible young lady."_

_"Fine, so you and dad will be here everyday to greet me or something?" Psh. Easy as ham._

_"Well...no, actually. We've decided to get you..."_

_Some guy stepped into my room, announcing his presence quite loudly though he seemed to be trying to keep himself together while in the same room as me._

_"We're going to have so much," he paused to choke down his spit. Ew. "fun!"_

_Oh my god._

_"a __babysitter."_

_WHAT!?_

_--_

**Fredward Benson**

Today, there was a knock on the door.

My heart pounded in my chest as my mother opened it, oh please be Carly asking for a date, please!

But no, it was some blonde guy who was holding up a flier in front of my mother's face. Probably some guy trying to sell something.

I snuck closer to see what the conversation was about.

"...so, it's Monday through Friday, from 5pm to 10pm, and if your son has to get any work done, it can be done at the house."

"And what is the pay?"

"We have a set price of five dollars an hour."

"Oh, wonderful! Freddie will love this."

The man gave a big grin as my mother bid him farewell and shut the door.

"Fredward!" She called out for me.

Startled, I jumped from my hiding place. "Yes, mother?"

"That man at the door offered you a job!"

"What?"

"A babysitting job, Fredward. Oh, you'll love it!" She clutched her heart.

"But mom, I don't want a job! Especially a babysitting job." I whined.

"Fredward. You are sixteen years old already, it's time you learned the value of a dollar!"

Ugh. "Fine, mother. I'll do it."

"Splendid! Your friend will be very happy to hear about this." She replied, and then off she went to la-la land to call that guy about the babysitting job.

I sat in my computer chair a couple hours after this whole thing occurred, and thought to myself.

Wait. What did she mean "my friend" would be very happy to hear this?

I got up and left my room, tip-toeing past my mother's in order to get to the kitchen and pick up the flier that blonde man had left for us.

I stared hard at the phone number.

This phone number looked familiar.

My eyes widened, '_THIS IS SAM'S PHONE NUMBER!'_

--

No way. No how. It couldn't possibly be Sam. She must have a baby cousin or neice or nephew or _something_ that needs to be babysat. It couldn't be her, no, no, no.

I check the "name of child" section and my heart stops.

Samantha Puckett.

No, no, mom, why me?

--

**Day 1: Monday**

I am _not_ looking forward to after school.

My parents told me they had found me a sitter, and he was a boy, and he was my age. Joy. Being babysat by someone who's "responsible enough to take care of themselves" sure sounds like fun! Ugh.

It's points like this in my life where I wish I hadn't set something on fire.

--

Freddie's acting weird today. And I don't mean nerdy-weird, I mean like, he seriously just walked into a wall and I didn't have to push him-weird.

He's been staring at me a lot, and I don't like it.

In third period, he sits next to me, so for the whole class he just stared at me without blinking with this look of utter horror in his eyes.

So I knocked him over in his chair.

Whoops, sorry new babysitter. Looks like I'll be a little late in meeting you today.

Because I have detention!

I smirked widely when a frightened Gibby scooted a couple feet away from my desk.

Life is good.

--

At five o'clock I got home to an empty house. Ha! I win. The babysitter must've gotten tired of sitting here for two hours and went home. Sucker.

The doorbell rang and I walked (slowly) to the door, swinging it open.

There, on my doorstep, was the dork.

"Whaddia want, nerd?" I asked politely, leaning on the doorknob.

"U-um, I- I-I'm here f-f-f-for,"

I glared at him, "Spit it out, moron!"

"I'M YOUR NEW BABYSITTER!" He shouted with fear _clearly_ evident in his voice.

My jaw dropped when he announced his purpose for being at my house.

"WHAT?"

**A/N: I edited it a bit to fix the spelling and grammar errors, so have no fear, the storyline is the same!**

**R&R my lovers.**


	2. The Day of Play: Day 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Two:**

_The Day of Play_

**Samantha Puckett**

I tried very hard to make Freddie's first day comfortable (really), so I sat down quietly and talked to him out of the kindness of my heart. And guess what the reaction was?

No, it was not "AGH! SAM GET AWAY, GET AWAY!".

It was; "...".

And that's how boring the geek is. He did absolutely _nothing_.

I doubt he even moved as I spoke with him. He just sat there, stiff as a board, staring at me with that look of utter horror like he had during class.

It was like talking to a rock. A big, nerdy rock in nerd clothes.

"Freddie?"

Nothing.

"Fredward."

Again, silence.

"Freddork?"

Ugh.

"Carly loves you!"

"WHAT!?"

Hey, I had to try _something_.

I laughed out loud, "Dork, I can't believe you fell for that one."

He visibly relaxed at my joke, but his shoulders were still tense and I decided that I wanted to play a game.

"Hey, Willy Dorka, let's play a game."

"What game?" He asked me, obviously avoiding my insult.

I thought about it for a moment, "Hide and go seek."

**Freddie Benson**

My favorite letter is P. Why? Because it describes a lot of things.

It describes very little things, but the beauty of them. Pretty...

It shows the correct usage of grammar. Punctuation...

And it also describes the feeling I'm having right now, but cannot commence unless I want a big, sticky stain on the front of my pants.

"Sam! Let me out of this closet! I have to go to the bathroom!"

She snorted. How ladylike. "So? Just go on yourself or something."

"I'm very sure I wasn't stung by a jellyfish," She interrupted me to say, "That can be arranged". "-within the last four seconds, so no, I don't think I will go on myself!"

"Wah, wah. Upset that you're missing Larry the Dinosaur or whatever? Just shut up and enjoy your punishment!"

I sighed, exasperated and filled up to my throat in pee. "Sam, I am sixteen years old, so I certainly do not watch Larry the Dinosaur or 'whatever'. And I'm the babysitter, I'm supposed to be the one doing the punishing!"

I'm sure you're all wondering how I got into this closet.

Well, damnit. So am I.

**Samantha Puckett**

I locked Freddie in the closet. Why? I got bored.

It started out like this:

_"What game?"_

_"Hide and go seek."_

_Freddie looked wary, but agreed nonetheless._

_"Fine, but no funny stuff, okay?"_

_"I'll try." Not, "Now go hide!"_

**_The Author_**

_Freddie ran from his blonde friend as she counted up from one to twenty._

_"One, two, three, four," He looked around for a place to hide, and noticed a closet near the corner of the room._

_"Perfect."_

_He opened the door quietly, but tripped up on a doorstop. "Oh, ouch. Gotta watch that." He muttered under his breath while entering the closet._

_"Nineteen, twenty! Ready or not, here I come, dork!"_

_She checked underneath the dining room table, around fake plants and in the kitchen. Nothing._

_She ripped the shower curtain open in the bathroom. Nothing. She opened the toilet lid. Nothing._

_"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"_

_Freddie had to admit, playing hide and go seek with Sam was kinda fun._

_"Oh, the closet." He heard her murmur, and watched as the gold knob turned idly._

_"Maybe he's in here." The room's lights flooded in and he put his hand in front of his eyes as they adjusted._

_"Found yo-uh oh!" She tripped up on the doorstop, just as he had, and was flung on top of him. She grabbed at the doorknob to regain her balance mid-fall, but ended up closing the door behind them as they hit the wall._

_Freddie groaned at the pressure pounding on his head._

_"Ugh, ow." They both grumbled, and Sam sat up._

_"Jeez, dork. Great place to hide." She said sarcastically, her fists clenched on each side of Freddie's head._

_Freddie gulped at their proximity but pushed her off so that he could stand._

_"Yeah, I know."_

_"You're it!" Sam shouted as she ran out of the closet and shut it, "Count to twenty!"_

_Freddie rolled his eyes at her immaturity and started counting to twenty. Sam stomped on the ground to make it sound like she was running away, but in actuality, she pushed the outside lock on the door and leaned casually on the wall beside it._

_"Ready or not, here I come!" She heard Freddie shout, and she bit her tongue to hold in her laughs. The doorknob jiggled and Freddie cried out indignantly._

_"Hey, Sam, let me out! The door won't open!" She chuckled, "I know, that' why it's funny!"_

_--_

**_Samantha Puckett_**

"Do you want to come out of the closet?" I asked.

He cried out in happiness and I rolled my eyes. "Yes, yes I do!"

"Then just say it; 'I like men!'"

"I like men!" I laughed out loud at that, and listened intently as Freddie scrambled to pick up the pieces of his dignity.

"Wait, that's not what I mean! Sam!"

"Fine, fine, nerd-o-tron. I'll let you out."

I left the my station for a moment to get some sliced turkey and opened the door.

Freddie fell onto the floor and scrambled to get up, but not before I smacked some turkey onto his face.

**Freddie Benson**

...Did Sam just put turkey on my face, in the form of a mask?

I could see out of the eye holes and breath out of the nose hole, but I couldn't talk, there was no mouth hole.

"Why didn't you cut a mouth into it?" I asked as I removed it from my face.

She shrugged, "I figured life would be a lot better that way."

I glared at her and rushed to the bathroom when I had the chance.

Babysitting is extremely suckish.

--

"Thanks for locking me in the closet, _Sam_. Now my bladder's probably the size of a raisin."

She rolled her eyes and I glared at her for being so, _so.._Sam!

"Whatever." Her eyes flashed, "Hey! Let's play another game!"

I groaned, "No, no more games." I am not getting locked in a another closet.

"Don't care, we're playing a game."

She took my hand and led me to the couch, and I blushed a little bit at the dirty, un-pure thoughts forming in my head, but shook them away. _'Control you hormones, man! You like Carly, that's it. Done deal.'_

"'kay, dork, this is what I like to call 'The Blind Game'."

Then the grandfather clock in the dining room donged nine times.

**The Author**

Sam giggled excitedly as she led Freddie into the living room. It had high ceilings with curtains that reached the floor and wide windows.

"Okay, so this is how you play. Someone is it, and the 'it' person has to count down from thirty. The lights are off so it seems that the 'it' person is blind, and they have to look around for the people hiding in the dark. When someone is tagged, they're it and it starts all over again."

Freddie raised an eyebrow curiously, "Isn't this a game for little kids?" Earning a punch in the shoulder from Sam.

"Shut up, it's fun! But it's not like a nerd like you would understand what _fun_ is besides studying the dictionary."

He huffed, "Fine, we'll play. Who's it?"

"I dunno. Rock, paper, scissors?" He nodded. They put their fists in three times and shouted "Shoot!". Both came up rock. They repeated the motion and came up with Sam having scissors and Freddie having rock.

She turned around and covered her eyes, "Go hide!" She ordered as Freddie shut off the lights and went to relax on the couch. "Finally, some peace and quiet. She'll never be able to see me in the dark." He muttered under his breath as he listened to the rhythmic sounds of Sam counting down from thirty.

"Twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two..." He slowly drifted off, "ONE!" And he was shocked back into reality.

"Agh!" He shouted, and Sam laughed. "Geek, keep your pants on, I'm not going to kill you or something." She said from across the room, and he could feel her eyes searching for him. He watched her outline in the dark, though with some difficulty, and waited.

Her searching hands lowered down onto the end of the couch, grabbing pillows and feeling under tables. She reached towards him and he sucked in a breath as her hand landed right on his-

-stomach. He exhaled.

"Gotcha!" She shouted with glee as she threw herself onto the couch and straddled him. The lights were still off and he couldn't see her face, and luckily she couldn't see his, because it was glowing red.

"Uh...Sam? What are you-" His voice was muffled as she leaned down and kissed him. She moaned and he was so shocked, he couldn't move. She tangled her hands into his hair and licked his lips, disorientating him from all normal thoughts. His blood ran cold and he gripped her waist as they made out on her couch.

A punch to the stomach awoke him with a start.

"Nerd! Hello! I can't believe you fell asleep during our game!"

Freddie awoke in a cold sweat, only to find Sam with her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I was tired." She huffed.

"Hmph, only a nerd like you would be tired at nine." _'I wandered around the living room for half-an-hour, looking for you in the dark!' _She thought with annoyance.

The front door opened and Freddie shot up like a missile from the couch, not wanting to send off any bad signals towards Sam's parents.

"Honey, we're home early!"

--

As he sat in his mother's car, his backpack zippered up with un-done homework (fortunately, his mother didn't know this), and sweat pouring down his neck.

"Sweetie? Are you okay?" She asked, fussing over him and telling him he was going to have a tick bath tonight.

Freddie groaned inwardly as he walked in through the door of his apartment after telling his mother he wanted to go straight to bed.

He lay on his comforter with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and replaying his dream.

_'More like a nightmare.' _He thought, shuddering and grabbing the picture of Carly he kept under his pillow to try and calm himself down.

"Good night, Freddie! Don't let the bed bugs bite, or I'll have to clean you with anti-fungal soap!"

He smothered his face with his pillow and desperately tried to fall asleep without thinking of Sam as he did so.

_'No, mommy. Please not the anti-fungal soap.' _He remembered himself saying back when his mother gave him his first anti-fungal bath when he was twelve.

He shuddered at the memories, forcing himself to shut his eyes and sleep. Only 29 more days left of babysitting. That wasn't so bad!

Well, it wouldn't be- if he wasn't babysitting Sam Puckett.

But he was.

'_Life is cruel.'_

**A/N: So, the grandfather clock donging nine times shows that it's nine o'clock. Sorry this chapter was kinda lame, but I promise you-the next chapter is AMAZING! I have it all planned out!**

**R&R lovers!**


	3. You Are So Dead: Day 2

**Author's Note: Woo! Sorry this took so long to come out, I was having serious plot mix-ups. Anyways, I would like to thank all my reviewers, story alert, author alert, author favorite, and story favoriters! You guys really kept me motivated! And don't worry, the kiss will indeed be more detailed in the next chapter, I promise!**

**Special thanks to: StarFreak101, Nature9000, ColorsOfTheSky101, 4everyoung, Sk8erGal1208, callmecari, james is my boi, Heartsong's Fanfictions, crazy4oliver, carii, kayee.143, envythorn93, strawberrycutie, and earth-fairy2006!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Three:**

_You Are So Dead_

**The Author**

One bright and early Friday morning (the day Sam absolutely despised, for it always dragged on and meant another school day, no matter how close to the weekend it was), Miss. Briggs decided she would entrance her student audience with her beautiful bagpipes.

"Alright class, today I am going to play for you," she heard them groan, "SILENCE! And you are all going to listen patiently. Now, we begin!" She blew into one of the pipes and a flat, screeching sound emitted from it.

"Oh, dear. Looks like I'll have to go consult Mr. Quintan about this. Please excuse me as I tune my instrument of beauty!"

When the front classroom door shut, Sam immediately turned to Carly.

"Please, more like instrument of _torture_."

Carly giggled. "Hey, Carly. You wanna mess with Miss. Briggs?" Then Carly frowned.

"Sam, what are you going to do this time?"

Sam grinned, "Nothing that you can prove."

She stood and walked up to the chalk board, grabbing a piece of chalk and ignoring the odd looks sent to her by those not used to the never-ending prankster.

The blonde placed the chalk back into it's original container, and stepped back to admire her work.

"Sam, she's so going to eat you for this!"

Sam laughed triumphantly and put her hands on her hips, "Whatever. She deserves it for bringing that torture device into a school."

The classroom door opened again and Sam was in her seat before anyone could blink. Miss. Briggs walked in with her bagpipes, looking behind her for a piece of chalk, which she did not find. But what she did find, was a big, fat, chalk-written sign that read "Randy Jackson eats pants with Miss. Briggs" on it.

Miss. Briggs was completely appalled when she read what Sam had written on the chalkboard.

"WHO DID THIS?" She screamed out, her bagpipes falling miserably to the ground in a dramatic fashion. "WHOEVER WROTE THIS _LIE, _SPEAK NOW OR FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE!"

"What is this, a court?" Sam muttered to Carly, who shook her head with disappointment and annoyance.

"I'm not taking the fall for this one, Sam," Carly whispered back, only to receive a shrug in return.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it."

"SO? WHO DID IT?"

Sam smirked, "GIBBY DID IT!" Causing said person to panic.

"No I didn't, Sam did it while you were in the hall!" He turned around to face the blonde prankster.

"I will not-"

Sam rolled her eyes as she interrupted Gibby's speech, "-you will not be a victim. Blah, blah, blah."

"MISS. PUCKETT! You are to report to detention IMMEDIATELY after class! Do I make myself absolutely CLEAR?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, whatever."

Miss. Briggs cried out indignantly, but went on to teach the rest of her class.

...While playing the bagpipes.

--

**Samantha Puckett**

THEY SAID I CAN'T GO TO CARLY'S.

What. The. Ham? I am so peeved right now, it's seriously not even funny.

You wanna know _why_ they said I can't go to Carly's for the rest of the WEEK?

Oh I don't know, maybe it's because I've apparently "gotten too many detentions in the past few days". I'VE GOTTEN TWO, _TWO_! Come on! Cut me some slack!

"We've cut you enough slack, Samantha, and if you continue to get detentions while Freddie is babysitting you, we'll have to move on to a new babysitter."

I was visibly excited.

"REALLY?" They looked at me weirdly and I coughed, "I mean, uh, you-really?" I tried to deepen my voice to sound upset.

"Yes, Samantha."

"And who's the replacement?"

"A young man in your grade who's parents want him to learn responsibility as well, but don't trust him with a small child. He'll whip you into shape!"

"What's his name?"

"Rodney Sullivan."

Rip-Off Rodney.

--

I thought to myself for a while after the conversation with my parents was over.

'_What if I _did _ditch the dork for Rodney? We'd have tons more fun, and he'd totally go for it, seeing as he always loves getting into trouble. Hmm..._Yeah, _I think I will ditch the dork. This can totally work in my favor.'_

I got home from detention at five, had the "infamous chat" with my parents then, and they left at five thirty. Freddie came by to babysit me at six, and at six thirty, Freddie called out to me from the kitchen. "Sam, go upstairs and do your homework."

"Go suck an egg."

"Sam!"

"Fine, I'm going! No need to get dramatic and whip out the spray bottle."

Today is his second day and I already can't stand him.

Then an idea struck me, perfect.

I can't stand sitting, which is an oxymoron. I paid attention in English today, for once.

So, since I "can't stand sitting", I stood. And jumped. And climbed. Out the window.

Once I reached the ground after crawling down the big ladder on the side of the house my dad uses to paint, I stared victoriously at the road I would soon be walking down towards Carly's house.

Eat that, Freddie boy.

--

**Freddie Benson**

Sam's awfully quiet up there, maybe she went to sleep? I guess not, since she probably saves up all her sleep time for class.

I went upstairs to check on her anyway, knocking on the door not for politeness (though that was probably part of the case), but because I did _not_ want to walk in on Sam changing.

Hmm...

Or maybe I did.

My heart pounded and I shook my head to rid myself of impure thoughts. '_Bad Freddie, bad! You like Carly, and this is no time to be going through puberty!'_

Anyway, she didn't answer, so I figured she was in the bathroom. I walked in, my eyes closed and my arm covering them as well.

"Sam?"

Nothing.

I unsheathed my eyes to see an empty room and an empty bathroom. Then I checked the window, it was open.

"SAM!"

--

I didn't even glance at the emergency numbers on the kitchen table that her parents had given me- I already knew all of them by heart, seeing as my mom just makes me _do_ that on a regular basis.

But that wasn't the reason I didn't look at it. I knew exactly where she was going, and how I was going to stop her.

--

**Sam Puckett**

I stepped off the bus and flipped the bus driver an extra quarter from my jean pocket.

"For your patronage, dude."

He gave me a thumbs up and closed the steaming doors as I made my way towards the lobby and up the elevator to Carly's apartment.

I examined a rock I had picked up by the bus stop, but fumbled with it as the elevator came to a screeching halt. The large, skinny rock fell through the cracks of the elevator and it jolted, so I stepped out quickly and made my way to Carly's apartment.

I knocked on the door, and there was Carly.

"Hey, Carls."

"Hey, Sam. Wait, I thought you got grounded and weren't allowed to come over here?"

"Nope, I got grounded from sleeping over, not coming over." Okay, so I lied a little bit, but I just "forgot" to tell her my parents said no coming over, either!

"Ohh, I see. Come on in, Spencer's making a roasted chicken."

I licked my lips, "Awesome. Stuffed with ham?"

Carly nodded, giggling. "Yep, good thing you came over when you did."

I smirked at no one as I walked over to the couch and sat down next to Carly's popcorn, where a horror movie was playing out on her tv. The time on the clock above it read 7:06pm.

"No kidding."

--

**Freddie Benson**

I huffed as I reached the outer entrance of the apartments where I knew Sam was. I can't believe I found it from Sam's house, and ran all six miles!

I almost collapsed against the revolving doors but tried to breathe properly and enter through them. I ignored the indignant cries of Lewbert, "GET OUT OF MY LOBBY! I JUST BUFFED THE WALLS!" and pressed the button for the elevator.

"The elevator is BROKEN! USE THE STAIRS AND GET OUT OF MY LOBBY!" I groaned loudly and ran up the stairs.

I finished the first flight in record time, but only because of a sudden burst of energy, though I felt proud.

"Nice work," I said to myself, "Now only..." I paused to look the floor number on the wall. "SIX FLIGHTS LEFT?"

"SHUT UP, NOISY BOY!" Lewbert screamed at me.

Life is so not fair.

--

The movie had ended around 8:30, seeing as Carly had just started it by the time I got there. We ate our dinner with Spencer as we watched the movie, and I walked out of the apartment, vanilla ice cream bar in hand as I happily downed half of that, too.

The elevator had a peice of paper stuck to it, reading "OUT OF ORDER" in big red letters as if it was a bathroom stall. I rolled my eyes and decided to take the stairs instead.

Halfway down, I heard footsteps but ignored them. Who really cares about other people, anyway?

By the time I had gotten in front of the guy, I realized it was my babysitter.

"Hey, Freddo!" I said pleasantly, chewing on the ice cream bar.

"Sam! You are in so much," he paused to huff like a maniac, "trouble!"

"Whatever, Freddo. 'Scuse me while I throw this out." I dumped the half-eaten, melting ice cream bar in a nearby trashcan that was filled with bodily fluids. Probably his. Ew.

"Sam." I turned around to face him, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You disobeyed my orders, and you deliberately snuck out of your window and went to Carly's!"

I licked my fingers clean of ice cream. "So?"

"So? So! You're in big trouble when I tell your parents."

I snarled, and instinctively, as though I was a predator to her prey, shoved him against the wall an pinned his arms to it with both of my hands.

"No, you aren't."

He shook with fear and I smirked, I had the upperhand.

--

**Freddie Benson**

I was steaming, I knew it. I was upset with Sam for running away and making me run and get her when she could've just sat in her room like a good girl!

"You're in big trouble when I tell your parents." I told her.

Checkmate, she couldn't do anything to stop me from telling!

Shock took over my whole body when she pushed me into the wall and trapped my arms with her hands. Her flashing eyes were predatory and her lips were upturned into a smirk and covered with vanilla ice cream and I couldn't help it I swear it's the hormones! but I-

--

Her eyes widened-

--

His eyes closed-

--

_He_-

--

I-

--

_Kissed me!_

_--_

Kissed her.

And this was no dream.


	4. Deception: Night 2, Day 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly!**

**A/N: OKAY, EVERYBODY! THIS IS SERIOUS NEWS! I am in desperate need of a beta, so if you feel you're up to it, please feel free to PM me or review that you are willing! Thank you!!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Four:**

_Deception_

(The Rest of Day 2, and the Beginning of Day 3)

**The Author**

Electricity coursed through his veins, ripping through the flesh and causing his heart to pound erratically in his chest.

The kiss burned deep in his throat and he ached for more, driving himself into her awaiting arms and shoving his tongue through her parted lips.

'_God...why can't this last forever?' _

His eyelids lifted to reveal chocolate brown irises, watching with fascination at Sam's changing expressions as she inwardly debated with herself. His arms were still spread out and pinned to the wall, but Sam's hands slowly and surely began to release them. She stood up on her tippy-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth and his breath caught. She wiggled his legs in between hers and swiftly pushed against his groin, the friction sending his mind swirling with stars dotting along his eyes.

"Ugh, Sam..." He groaned, throwing his head back only to have it slide down the wall. Sam, in turn, pulled at his hair, retrieving the electricity in his veins he thought lost.

A door further down the stairs slammed and Sam's eyes snapped open, pulling away and detaching herself from Freddie's arms at lightning speed.

She shakily reached for her lips, "Oh...my god. I made out with the dork."

Flames sparkled in her eyes.

"I made out with _YOU_!"

Then she turned and ran.

"Sam! Wait, come back! SAM!"

--

**Freddie Benson**

This is _not_ good. I'm supposed to be her babysitter and I ended up mauling her like a lion. Plus, she'll never forgive me. I know about these kinds of things- about women. My mother was often upset by feral men, and I almost snorted at the idea of thinking that I was anything more ferocious than a bunny rabbit.

I ran down the stairs after her, calling her name, screaming it, but she wouldn't have it.

"No, Freddie! Don't talk to me!" She shouted, pausing on the stairs and clutching the railing with such strength her knuckles turned white.

"Why, Sam? Why won't you talk to me?" I asked with as little desperation as I could manage, trying to sound calm for her. I so badly wanted to lose it like she was, but I just couldn't.

"Because you kissed me, dork! You kissed me and I kissed you back and, and-" She stuttered, looking for an excuse, "-you're supposed to like _Carly_!"

I sighed, I knew she was right. I was endangering our friendship with all of my stupid hormones. I was disrupting the flow that we were all so used to. I love Carly, Carly only likes me as a friend, and Sam is the funny one that is allowed to be with whoever wants her.

But if only that could change.

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry, it was wrong to kiss you without thinking about how you would feel. Will you please forgive me?"

She hesitated, as if she was having an inner battle with herself. I could tell she wasn't going to take me back, she was hurt and devastat-

"Fine. I forgive you."

This response jolted me backward, and I grabbed the railing to steady myself.

"T-t-thank you. Sam. Thank you." She gave me a small half-smile, and I returned the gesture.

Maybe I don't understand women as much as I thought I did.

"Now, let's get me home before my parents get home."

I ran a hand through my hair, leading her out the door and holding it open for her. Thankfully Lewbert had fallen asleep.

She tripped me as I walked towards the bus stop with her, and I looked up curiously and dejectedly, but she gave me a playful smirk, reminding me of the beautiful lips I had just ravaged. At that moment, I knew she would be the most difficult person I had ever babysat.

I ran a hand through my hair as I entered the steaming bus after her.

I am so fired.

--

"Don't get lost now, Freddie. The bus is very big and your small-ish brain might not be able handle all of the stimulation."

I flushed at the mention of _"not being able to handle stimulation"_, and inwardly had to agree with her. I shook my head to rid myself of my hormonally-challenged thoughts.

'_I am _such_ a horny _dog_ nowadays!'_ I ranted in my thoughts.

The bus was relatively empty, save for the bus driver and a harmless middle-aged woman in the second-to-first seat near the front. Of course, Sam _had_ to sit in the backseat, drawing up even more perverted thoughts.

_Hot skin soft lips whispered nothings -_

I gulped loudly and sat down next to her as she leaned against the side of the bus and spread her legs out comfortably in front of her.

"So...why'd you run away to Carly's anyway?" I asked.

She snorted, "To get away from you, obviously." I watched as she rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath, something that sounded very close to "_among other things"_.

"So, why did you kiss me?" I choked on my saliva and looked at her with desperation.

"What is this-twenty questions?" I shot back at her, hoping that she would understand the raging hormones of puberty and drop the subject.

She did, though probably without the understanding I hoped she would have.

"Fine, but don't expect me to let this go."

The bus came to a slow stop and Sam flipped the bus driver a quarter, and he winked at her. I shuddered and led her away from the man who's gaze lingered far below her blonde hair.

We raced towards her house as the bus pulled away, and threw open the front door, hoping to find a normal position that wouldn't make her parents suspicious. We ended up sitting on the floor in the center of the hallway, playing paddy cake for some strange reason.

Tires rolled into the gravelly driveway and the front door swung open the very second the grandfather clock struck ten, revealing Sam's parents and my mother.

"Hello, Fredward! Did you enjoy your time babysitting my little cream puff?" I groaned lowly and heard Sam chuckle opposite from me.

"'_Cream puff'_?" She mocked under her breath, resulting in me sending her an annoyed glare. She only giggled in return.

--

**Samantha Puckett**

I could tell he was upset by the pet name his mother had recently (and oh, so beautifully, said my cynical inner-prankster.) referred to him as, but frankly, I didn't care.

As soon as he was in the doorway, his mother was halfway down towards her car, and my parents had gone upstairs to sleep, I stopped him.

"Freddie," I called, jogging up to him.

He turned around and gave me an indescribable look, but I ignored him anyway. I gave him my trademark smirk and put my hands on my hips.

"You're a pretty good kisser." I said nonchalantly, once again ignoring his gaping, nerdy face and shutting the door with a grin.

That'll teach him to mess with The Sam of Ham, ruler of everything.

--

In the morning, the sun was too bright.

"I hate my _liiiiiiiiife_." I groaned loud enough for my parents to hear, hoping they would realize that it was _completely _unfair for me to have a babysitter, though I-thankfully-did not have to deal with him, for it is glorious, wonderful Saturday.

I rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a thump, staggering towards the shower. As soon as the heat-blasted water hit me, I sighed with absolute relaxation. I turned the knobs and shut it off, as reluctant as I was, and stepped out of the shower towards my closet, a fluffy pink towel wrapped around myself.

I picked out a casual outfit and dragged myself down the stairs, sitting down at the kitchen table with a grunt. The smell of sausage and eggs wafted throughout the room and my heart fluttered at the thought of a delicious breakfast before iCarly.

"Here you go, sweetheart." My mom said cheerily, and I raised a brow. My dad always does the cooking in the morning-my mom sleeps 'till noon, what's with the sudden change? I voiced these thoughts, but not before thanking my mother graciously for the food.

She smiled at me, half-hearted. "Now, darling." She paused, mid-smile, to start her sentence over again. "Pumpkin, I-well, _we_ know that this will be a little upsetting, but remember-you _are _grounded from going over to Carly's, and I'm sorry, but that means no iCarly." My mouth dropped open, but she continued, much to my horror. "And since you will be here alone since-as you know- your father and I have an important business trip until midnight tonight, we will have to leave you with Freddie. Your babysitter."

I was absolutely speechless. There wasn't any word in the English dictionary at how utterly upset and mortified I was. Not only was I forced to stay home and miss iCarly, but so was the dork-but in MY house!

The front door swung open and I sniffed the nostalgia in the air from the first day he arrived.

My mom and dad gave me quick hugs and kisses and were out the door before I could even comprehend the suckishness of the entire situation.

The dork took a seat next to me at the wooden dining table, and I glared at him, inwardly smiling with satisfaction at his slight cower.

I twirled the eggs with my fork and spoke at the same time. "We meet again, Fredward."

**(A/N: I ALMOST ended it there, bwuahahaha!)**

--

**Freddie Benson**

I knew for a fact that she was _not_ happy to see me, but that was expected-it was Sam, after all. She stabbed and cut up her sausage with such malice that I feared that she was imagining it was my genitals.

"Sam, please stop castrating me with your eyes." I said, slicing the tension with my witty banter.

I am such an idiot.

She let out a loud laugh, "Only if you stop undressing me with _yours_." She shot back, and I gulped.

"I am not!" I shouted indignantly, but she only rolled her eyes.

"So, you're planning on missing iCarly, too?" She asked, and I shrugged. At that moment, my cell phone rang, blasting "7 Things" by Miley Cyrus.

"_The seven things I like about you your hair your eyes your old levis-" _I answered the phone.

"Hello?" I ignored the curious look Sam gave me at the ringtone.

"Freddie- is Sam with you?"

"Yes."

"Put me on speaker!"

I complied and saw a look of realization flash in Sam's eyes at the sound of Carly's voice. I looked up at her and she adverted her gaze.

"Sam!"

She seemed to snap back to reality when Carly called her name.

"Yeah?" She responded lazily.

"What are we gonna do about iCarly with you and Freddie gone? Should we do it there?"

I had to intervene-iCarly couldn't be here. My mom watches our webshow (to check up on me and make sure I'm not being molested or eating bad corn- I don't understand her either, believe me.), and I knew that she would give me so many groundings if she found out I used Sam's house while I was "on duty" to shoot iCarly.

"Carly, we can't. My mom'll find out."

She gave a frustrated sigh from the other line.

"Then what are we going to do!? I can't do iCarly without you two!"

"Sorry Carly," I said regretfully. "Try to get Spencer to help! Maybe you guys can do some segments or something. I'll try to get over there later and see if I can help with a few things."

She breathed an, "Okay." and said goodbye to both of us.

It was silent after Carly had hung up.

"So..." Sam said casually, giving me a strange look.

"What?"

"Your ringtone for Carly is a Miley Cyrus love song?"

"Well, no- I mean, maybe! I don't know, I just set it to that for some reason..." I was _not_ going to admit that I liked that song. Never in a million years. Sam would tease me until the end of the world.

"Sure, sure." She muttered under her breath.

"Well if you're so sure of yourself, what's your ringtone for me?" I asked her, crossing my arms and leaning back in the wooden chair.

She picked up her cell phone, turned it on, and searched in her list of contacts. She apparently found my name and clicked the "OK" button in the center.

"_You're so gay and you don't even like boys, no you don't even like, no you don't even like...PENIS!" _I jumped at the ending, causing the chair to tip back. I yelped, reaching out for a restraint, but no luck. I clattered to the floor in a big heap.

Sam's laugh rang throughout the room, twinkling with amusement at my misfortune. "You break it, you buy it, geek!"

I set my head back down on the floor in embarrassment.

Could this day get any worse?

--

**The Author**

**Don'tMessWithTheBest has signed on at 10:37am.**

Sam scanned the list of people that were on her buddy list. Despite the fact that she was violent, she _did _have other friends besides Carly and Freddie. She scrolled past Harley's screenname, past Carly's, and went all the way down the bottom of the list before it reached the "offline" list. Her cursor hovered over the username.

**RipOffRod has been online for **16 min.

Sam cracked her knuckles, pulling up an IM with her neighbor.

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **Hey, Rodney. I heared about your understudy-ship for the nerd.

**RipOffRod: **Haha, so you have. What's up, ya need anything?

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **Yeah, I need a favor.

**RipOffRod: **Fine, but I want something in return.

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **What'dyou want?

**RipOffRod: **A date to the dance?

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **Works for me.

**RipOffRod: **Broke?

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **Ham sandwiches don't pay for themselves.

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **Now, for my side of the deal. I need you to come over and dress up as me to ward off the nerd so I can get out of the house and do iCarly.

**RipOffRod: **Fine, I'll be there in a sec, just get to your window and I'll swing the ladder over.

**Don'tMessWithTheBest: **No problem.

**Don'tMessWithTheBest has signed off at 10:52am.**

**RipOffRod is away. **"Doing business. Leave your number. Johnny, you still owe me thirty bucks. I'm watching you."

--

**Samantha Puckett**

Alright. Unhook latch, open window, wait for the signal from Rodney.

See, Rodney and I are neighbors, and his room's window is about six feet from mine, making it easy for us to communicate deals.

His window slid open and I smirked, "Make sure to keep the noise down when you get inside, unless you want Freddie to get suspicious?"

Rodney kept a steady gaze, "Don't worry, cupcake. We've done this enough times to fool even you." I rolled my eyes and pulled at the ladder that he brought out, latching the hooks onto the side of the window frame.

"Come on over, Rodney. Be careful, though. We don't need a repeat of last time." He shuddered, remembering the time he had slipped up the first time we tried this and had to monkey-bar-it across. Thirty feet above the ground.

Rodney stepped with careful grace into my room, lowering the ladder down to the ground as he leaned over the window sill. "There you go, dollface. Now where's the wig?" I handed him the curly-haired blonde wig and he adjusted it over his poofy black hair. He took off his glasses and shoved them into the pocket of his tight-fitted khakis, covering it with the dark t-shirt he wore.

"Well, at least you dressed for the part this time." I commented and he scratched his head laughing at the memory of the time he had worn a pink bunny shirt that belonged to his older sister Tiffany.

"Let's just get this over with, dollface."

I nodded and went towards the window, but stopped as "Everything I'm Not" by The Veronicas blasted from Rodney's other pocket. He pulled out a small silver flip phone and hit the red off button.

I rose an eyebrow, "What was that?"

He shrugged as if it was obvious, "Chicks like guys who listen to chick music." I chuckled at his behavior and stiffened at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. I could see him tense, too, and waved him towards my bed.

"Get in!" I whispered shrilly, and he quirked his eyebrows up. Pervert. I glared at him and he grinned, jumping under the covers as I lowered myself under the window on the ladder.

There was a knock on the door and Rodney replied to it in that perfected Sam-voice of his. "Don't come in!"

I could almost hear Freddie frown from the other side of the door. "I'm changing!" Rodney called again.

Freddie stuttered and I giggled quietly, covering my mouth with my hand just in case.

I heard Rodney step out from under the covers and go over near the door. "What do you want?" He shouted in my voice, and I smirked at how good he really was at it.

"I want to know what that noise was. Are you done changing?" Freddie called.

"It was my cell phone, and no, I'm not!"

--

**Freddie Benson**

Sam is acting weird, why is she taking so long to get changed?

"I want to know what that noise was. Are you done changing?" I began to sweat at the uncomfortable question, but I had to ask. I need to get in there to see if she's okay.

"It was my cell phone, and no, I'm not!" She called back to me, and I glared at the door. Something is up, and as a babysitter, it is my duty to see what it is.

I flung the door open and Sam's mouth fell open in shock, she turned around so she wouldn't have to face me and hunched over. I rose an eyebrow.

"Sam, what are you doing?" I grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away from it, so I put it back down by my side.

"Sam, are you alright? Tell me what's wrong." I moved towards her. "Sam, I-" I heard her sob and my eyes widened. Was she-

Crying?

"Leave me alone, nerd!" She said, her voice wavering. My heart called out to her.

I grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, slamming my mouth against hers. Her dark brown eyes widened and she pulled away, coughing and clutching her throat. She backed up until she eventually fell to the floor, her blonde wig sliding down her shoulders and onto the carpet.

Wait a minute.

Dark eyes, blonde _wig?_ This wasn't _Sam_, I hadn't kissed _Sam, _I had kissed-

"_RODNEY?_"

--

**Rodney Sullivan**

Damnit. Sam owes me so bad.


	5. Save Me: Night 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly!**

**Thank you Miss-Frenchie-chan and ExtremeWriter for beta-ing this!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Five:**

_Save Me_

**Samantha Puckett**

Before you could even say 'with a side of ham', I was on the ground like  
a hit and run before Rodney had even opened the door.

My breathing came out in short, labored pants as I raced towards Carly's  
apartments, my home away from home. 'Heh,' I wondered, 'it seems I've been  
escaping to Carly's for the longest time, and it's only been two days.'

A car zoomed past me and I threw myself in the path of the bus that was about to take its leave.

"Wait, hold on," I huffed, slamming my nickel into the  
coin slot like a maniac.

"Drive, man, drive." I ordered, plopping into a hard, metal seat.

"Rough day, eh?" A gruff voice said from behind me.

"Huh?" Was my intelligent input.

"I see your CD player is empty," He gestured to my rickety old player fro03.

"Uhh...yeah. Why?"

"I have a very calming CD here. That is, if you want it?"

I rose an eyebrow but took the CD and popped it into the compartment.

"Yeah, thanks man."

He smiled and nodded, getting up from his seat and walking off  
the bus.

I eyed the player, "Hopefully it's not boring. Or stolen." I rolled my eyes,  
"Or both."

My eyes closed as the CD played calming music from Woodstock '69.  
**(A/N: Look it up xD)**

I drifted off, humming 'Jefferson Airplane.'

_"And if you go chasing rabbits, you are going to fall..."_

--

I blinked slowly, dark clouds fogging my vision. _'Where am I?'_

Realization flashed through my mind. _'Oh, the bus.'  
_  
I panicked, 'The BUS? How long have I been asleep?'

My wrist flew to my face and I searched my watch for answers. It read;  
8:25pm. I had missed iCarly.

The city lights flew by and I grimaced, looking around the bus, only to have  
the frightened gaze of the other passengers boring their pity into me.

My eyes widened and I looked up. A boy maybe two or three years older than  
me with scruffy blonde hair in a black trench coat was staring straight at me.  
I rose and eyebrow but regretted it as I heard the sound of a hammer being  
pulled back.

A gun was pointed between my eyes.

Breathing became difficult. I might have even forgotten how to. The innards of my chest felt heavy and dry.

I coughed, and the hand holding the gun came forward and brushed harshly against my  
forehead.

A boy with poofy brown hair stood up, hands in front of him.

"Ricky," He said calmly, "Don't do this, man. I taught you everything you know  
and you and I both understand that this isn't the right bus to hold up. Let  
her go, Ricky."

The boy I now knew as Ricky, who looked frightfully similar to Richard Vloski  
from the Senior classes at school, began to collect himself.

I narrowed my hazy eyes to look at him clearly. Sandy blonde hair with a jagged cut,  
beautifully sunkissed skin, and violet eyes that would make Elizabeth Taylor seethe with jealousy. He was certainly a looker.

Realization hit like a ton of bricks. This _was _Richard Vloski.

"Richard Vloski?" I asked attentively, sitting up.

His roar was so unexpected that it jarred me back into the real world with  
gasping pants. He flung his gun upwards and rang out twelve shots.

"MY NAME IS NOT RICHARD!"

It was twenty minutes later when Rodney had successfully subdued Ricky,  
subtly giving me hints that I shouldn't ever call him Richard again.

Believe me, I got the hint after the seventh bullet had hit  
the ceiling.

Eventually Ricky had dropped the gun, much to my buoyancy.

"Good work, Ricky." Rodney consoled, patting his old 'colleague' on the  
back.

I rose an eyebrow but kept silent, eyeing the solid black pistol on the  
ground. I gulped.

"Now let's get you out of this bus," Silent police cars surrounded the bus as  
soon as Ricky took the first step off.

The sirens turned on.

"WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, DROP THE GUN," I paused to glance at the gun on the  
floor, "AND EXIT THE BUS WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"

Ricky's violet eyes widened, he looked at Rodney.

"You set me up!"

His eyes hardened. "You put all of these people into harm, Ricky, that's not  
what I taught you."

His gaze faltered to flashback for a moment. I rolled my eyes at his childish  
antics, at when back when he was in ninth grade he would get arrested  
constantly. My stomach growled at the thought of the burritos he  
had smuggled into detention for the iCarly fiftieth webshow spectacular.

"Rodney! Rodney! Did you find her? Did you find Sam?" I heard Freddie call,  
running up to us with Harper close behind.

I rose an eyebrow. "Harper?"

Said boy grinned, his white teeth glittering in the night. "The one and  
only!"

I smiled.

"What are you doing here, Harper?" I asked, looking from him to Freddie's  
red, panting face, and back to him.

He stared at me as though it was obvious,  
unfortunately, it wasn't. He caught on that I didn't understand.

"I'm here looking for you. Freddie rounded all of us up just to look for  
you. He and Carly even post-poned iCarly just to send out the search parties."

I frowned and Rodney looked apologetic, he looked to me and then Freddie  
and Harper.

Rodney frowned, "Sorry guys, it's my fault."

Freddie opened his mouth to reply, "You're damn right it is."

I threw my hand over his mouth and looked into his eyes to stop him. "No,  
Freddie. Rodney saved me from that psychopath Ricky. You should be thanking him."

I turned to Rodney, "And so should I."

I hugged Rodney and he returned the favor.

"Thank you for saving my life, Rodney."

I turned back and Freddie's eyes had turned accusatory. He was mad, really  
mad. More mad than ever before. Like anarsonist off his medication mad!

I put my hand on his shoulder, and smiled at the three boys.

"Thanks to all of you for looking for me."

I looked around. "Wait, where's Carly?"

Freddie lowered his eyes, mulling through his thoughts. Probably upset that  
he didn't get to go with Carly.

This saddened me slightly, but I knew he cared enough for me to at  
least join the search party.

"She's with Spencer and Gibby, looking for you."

I blinked, "Gibby?"

He nodded.

"Alright," I began, drawling, "so Gibby's probably got his shirt off and will be  
screaming 'RAWR!' as he turns the corner in five, four,"

"RAWR!" Was the resounding shout.

"Three, two, one." I finished quickly, grinning ear to ear.

Gibby charged towards us in all his shirtless glory. He stopped short next to  
Freddie, Rodney and Harper.

Despite how tall the boys were already, Gibby  
towered over them and half of the male population in Seattle, standing at  
6'6 and being the biggest guy on the Varsity football team.

But no matter how big he got or how athletic, he would always be the funny  
chubby kid that loved to rip his shirt off and dance.

I decided I had a few moments of peace while the boys sorted things out with  
Gibby and with the police, so I flashbacked to when Gibby and I  
became friends.

_It all started back at the beginning of Freshman year, when everyone began  
to chill out from all the Middle School drama._

"Hey, did you hear? That kid we used to give Texas wedgies to had a  
growthspurt!"

_"Yeah, yeah, big deal. I grew over the summer, too, man!"_

"No way, dude. I mean this guy grew alot. He's like a beast!"

"Whatever, we could still take him."

"I don't know, man, I don't think it would be worth it.

"Fine. Hey, let's hit on that cute chick over there with the blondie, maybe  
that'll take your mind off the kid who grew, ya chicken."

"I resent that, man!"

It was in that instance that I knew something bad would happen. Carly and I  
were conversing about the new shoes at Shoe Rack and then those guys had  
come up to us.

"Hey pretty ladies, wanna join us for a skippingschool field trip?"

I glared at them and Carly shied away, "No, thanks." She said boldly.

"Aw, come on, baby. You'll have fun! Hey! What's going on?" The two boys had  
been picked up around the waist by Gibby.

He looked at us, "Go!"

Carly took the chance and scurried off, but I stayed. "Sam! Come on,  
let's go!"  
"No, Carls. You go, you know I can handle it." She hesitated, staring me  
dead  
in the eye but I gave her the thumbs up, and she was off. No big deal.

Gibby shoved the boys in a broom closet and locked the door. I smiled at the  
idea that he did so just to even the score from when they did it to him. He  
led me away to stand by some lockers."So?" "So?" He mimicked.

"Why'd you save us?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"What? The guy you picked on isn't allowed to do something nice once in  
awhile?"

__

I scoffed, "You were just showing off your brand new tallness."

He grinned at me and I couldn't help but shed my courageous cover. "Yeah,  
I know."

"So..." He said again. "Friends?" He lifted his hand.

I shook it, smiling. "For now."

Ah, yes. The joy of memories.

Uh, oh.

"Freddie! You freaking jerk! I saved Sam!"

"No, I did!"

"No, me!"

I rolled my eyes as they argued with each other over who saved me.

"HEY!" I shouted, interrupting Rodney who was about to bash in Gibby's  
teeth, Gibby who was gnawing on Freddie's shoulder, Freddie trying to force himself  
into Rodney's mouth, and Harper who was trying to stop all of the commotion.

They turned to look at me. "You all helped save me."

My stomach growled.

"Now it's time to eat. Follow me or I'll make an indent in your skull." I  
announced, flouncing off towards a nearby diner.

'I'LL GET YOU, SAM PUCKETT. JUST YOU WAIT!'

Ricky's voice rang in my ears.

"So you just _cancelled_ iCarly?"

"No! Carly was already ten minutes in to the usual twenty minute show, so  
when I went over there and you weren't..." He trailed off and I glared athim.

"You just cancelled iCarly. Freddie!" I shouted suddenly, startling our usual waitress Mary. "We've never cancelled iCarly! Ever!" I added. He flinched at my harsh tone, but gave me those sad puppy dog eyes he always gives Carly when he's done something wrong.

"Carly and I just wanted to make sure you were safe!" He shouted back at me,  
his robot brain going into automatic friend protection mode.

I sighed, "I know," and gave up. I looked at the waitress, who was shaking  
from nervousness. Instead of making a complicated order like I usually do with shy servers (especially this one), I decided to give her a break.

"Double cheese burger and a root beer."

She jotted it down quickly and gave me a small smile. I returned the favor.

"Steak burger with an extra side of fries, no cheese, extra onions and a  
pickle on the side with a diet coke," Harper said quickly.

I eyed him, "Diet?"

He grinned, "Gotta watch my weight, you know."

I rolled my eyes.

"Make that three!" Gibby shouted, and I gave him the same look.

"What?" He shrugged innocently, "I get hungry."

"Make that four," Freddie chimed in.

I looked at Rodney. "I'll have what the lady's having." He said cheekily.  
Mary's cheeks lit up bright red when Rodney looked at her and she scribbled  
down the orders furiously.

She gave him a fleeting look that he didn't catch, and I smiled at her. She turned and walked away, her cheeks flushed.

**Freddie Benson**

I watched, squished into the red vinyl booth between Gibby, who sat in the middle, and Harper, who was on the outside, as Sam looked from the stuttering Mary (who is also in my advanced French class) and over to Rodney.

She laughed with him and asked him if he would ever consider taking Mary tothe fall dance. He shook his head, looking a bit dejected, albeit smiling, "Sorry, toots. Have you forgotton your end of the deal?"

Sam shrugged and grinned, laughing with him, conversing with him.

I turned my head and looked out the dark window, staring at the moon that had  
just begun to shine about ten minutes ago. I tried to picture Carly in my mind.

I searched deep into my subconscious for the love that I felt for her  
the everlasting feeling that maybe one day, she would love me too. I found a  
sadness that twinged as I shuffled through memories, and a hope that  
flickered  
like a faulty light bulb, a hope that she would love me as more than a  
friend  
one day.

I heard Sam giggle and my heart thumped in my ears. She looked so  
comfortable, so at peace with the world, despite having a gun held to her  
face  
by some lunatic not minutes before. Sam was my friend, and I would do  
anything for her.

"Hey, nerdboy? What's up with you?" Sam whispered to me, her normally  
aggressive eyes looking soft and comforting, and I shrugged.

"Upset that your little Carlykins isn't around for you to drool over?" She  
joked, and I gave  
her an exasperated look. She frowned, glaring at me.

"Freddie, you know that you are my friend, but you will always be a nerd."

I caught her double meaning: I would always be in love with Carly to her, no  
matter how little my feelings really were for Carly.

"No matter how cute any girl thinks you are,"

No matter how much I fall in love with her,

"And no matter how much we argue and bet,"

No matter how many times I kiss her,

"You will always be my nerdy friend. Nothing more."

Her pale blue eyes darkened as she glared at me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't go getting a big head about what's in the past Sam. I thought you had  
more selfcontrol than this? Is that giant butt of yours interrupting the  
signals that are supposed to be going to your head?" Her features softened,  
though her eyes stayed defensive, and she smiled.

"At least my pants didn't get blown up on a live webcast," She shot  
back,"Geekwad."  
And then she turned away.

After our meals were finished and paid for, Gibby and Harper had taken off to  
tell Carly about our findings.

I walked home with Sam and Rodney, with Sam in the middle as we traveled down  
the sidewalk. She  
talked with Rodney about their past adventures, sneaking through windows,  
knocking down trash cans, teepeeing houses. They got along so well.

"Aha, yeah, and remember when we"

"In the neighbor's yard?"

"With the rotwieler?"

"Yeah!" They said in unison.

I sighed quietly and crossed my arms, following along, step by step.

"Hold on, Freddie, I'll catch you at the front door," Sam said pleasantly,  
giving me a small, carefree smile.

I shrugged and nodded, walking over to the front lawn of her house. She  
stayed with Rodney at his front door, smiling and chatting animatedly.

I grew bored watching them 'connect' and before I knew it, Rodney was  
leaning  
into her.

My back was ridged as he pressed his lips against hers, and I  
watched her run from the scene before returning the kiss.

Outwardly, I smirked at the fact that she hadn't pulled away from me the  
first time we kissed, but  
had when Rodney did. It made me feel proud, but inwardly, I was upset. Upset  
that the stupid jailbird would even think of touching my Sam.

My eyes widened as I realized how possessive I had gotten over Sam in the  
past few days. I shook my head and nonchalantly shoved my hands in my  
pockets.

Her eyes were large and the pupils shrunken. I wrapped my arms around her  
and  
kissed the top of her head.

"What's wrong? What happened?" I cooed, running my fingers through her hair.  
I felt her tears soak my shirt but I ignored it.

"Rodney kissed me!" She whispered, "He was one of my best friends and I  
trusted him and he just kissed me! He said he's always wanted me to be  
his..."

She clutched me tighter, mumbling some things under her breath that I  
couldn't  
comprehend. "Freddie, I'm scared. What if this ruins our friendship  
completely?" She began to sob, "Why did dhat!?"

I hugged her tighter. "It's alright. I'll stay with you here tonight."

Her head lifted and she wiped at the tears.

"Thank you, Freddie." And she hugged me again, "You're my best friend." She  
said, rocking us side to side.

Her best friend.

And only that, I fear.

**Samantha Puckett**

"Sam, I know we're friends, but I've liked you for a long time..." He began  
to move closer towards me.

I was shocked. I had just been making plans to set him up with Mary, now he  
was talking about wanting to be with me? What is going on with the world?

"You know that I'm extremely grateful to you for saving my life, Rodney, but  
we can only ever just be friends. I mean, I let you in my room because I  
trusted you. I didn't expect you to fall for me."

And ironically, I didn't expect Freddie to fall for me either, but that's not  
the point.

"But, Sam...I've always wanted you. Why can't you give me a chance?"

I shook my head. "No, Rodney, I-"

He cut me off my slamming is mouth against mine. He tried to pull me closer  
but I was too disgusted and betrayed to think of anything but getting away.

I pushed him away so that he crumpled to the floor, and I ran like a maniac  
towards Freddie. I slammed into him.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asked me, running his fingers through my  
hair. It almost made me feel bad for crying and getting tears all over his  
shirt. Almost.

"Rodney kissed me!" I whispered, sqeezing his collared shirt tightly. "He  
was  
one of my best friends and I trusted him and he just kissed me! He said he's  
always wanted me to be his..."

I lowered my voice so he couldn't hear me. "I don't want him, he's not  
supposed to like me. Everyone's supposed to like Carly. I'm not ready for  
this!"

I murmured to myself, and I could feel that I was going to start sobbing.

"Freddie, I'm scared. What if he ruins our friendship completely?"

What if he takes me away from you?

"Why did dhat?" I felt him hold me closer.

"It's alright. I'll stay with you here tonight."

I looked up at him and I scraped at the tears around my eyes. I've always  
been a good liar, but this  
time...I began to feel a new feeling. Something I haven't felt in a long  
time.  
Something akin to guilt...

"Thank you, Freddie." I lunged at him and held him close to me.

I began to rock us side to side. I had to lie, or else I'd start to like  
him. I can't like him. He's Freddie. The nerd, the dork, the one whose pants I  
blew up, whose eyebrows I shaved off, the guy I've verbally abused since the  
very day I met him.

"You're my best friend."

I love you.

--

**(A/N: Hey everybody, sorry this chapter was so off the babysitting thing, but worry not!I have it all planned out.**

**...sort of. Enjoy! D)**


	6. Respect: Day 5

**WARNING: Pms-prone bitchiness ahead!**

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. It's BOTH. Listen, after this chapter, I'm going to be putting this story on hiatus. I'm really sorry, it's just that I haven't really had a liking to iCarly for a while. But I promise, that once I get some inspiration again, I WILL return to this story.**

**Thank you Miss-Frenchie for beta-ing this chapter! D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or the Twilight series, which was written by the fabulous Stephenie Meyer.**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Six:**

_Respect_

**Samantha Puckett**

When I woke up, it was 5:30am on a school day. I hadn't even set my alarm. It was also two days after my strange encounter with a killer and with Freddie. Apparently, my life is officially being flushed down the toilet.

Normally, if I had a boy problem, Carly would be the first person I would turn to, but I was in far too deep to worry her with these puckish circumstances. I clicked the number four on my cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Mm...hello?" The gruff voice on the other line answered.

"Freddie, we need to _talk._"

He snapped his jaws in a yawn and started blathering on in sleep-talk language. "Agh...don't c-call me now," he muttered, "I'm try-trying to hold down a moose."

I glared at the wall in my room that was painted yellow and raised my voice. "Shut the hell up, Freddie! You are not holding down a moose! This is _Sam_, and if you don't gather your thoughts and speak coherently, I'm going to shove you in your locker with fresh meat and let the junior wrestling team have their way with you!"

Freddie yawned again and I had to count down from ten mentally to keep myself from punching a hole through the wall.

"Oh, I di-n't know. Hmm...Sam. Rhymes with ham. Ham, Sam, Ham," I swore I heard his eyes fly open. "SAM!" he shouted, and I smirked as I heard a loud, excess amount of weight fall to the floor on his side of the phone.

"S-sorry, Sam. What's the problem?"

"The _problem_ Freddie, is that we have to talk about a few things," I listened with sadistic pleasure as he cringed, hissing.

"What kinds of things? What's in it for me?"

My eyebrows narrowed. "Well, let's just say Freddie, if you comply with my wishes, your prize will be that I _won't_ shove my foot up your ass!"

And then I hung up.

--

My newly purchased "Breaking Dawn" book was clutched desperately in my hands by first period. I refused to look up at anyone during homeroom, shoving the novel into my aching stomach. I ignored Carly and even Freddie, who was sending me arcanum glances, judging my movements as though I had them planned out since 5:30 this morning. Oh how wrong he was.

I distracted myself by purging on the imminent details of Bella and Edward's future, and theoretically, I should've already been swooning by page 150, but I just wasn't. I wasn't emotionally prepared at the moment to delve on another's romantic venues, so I settled for staring at the same page for ten whole minutes before finally closing the book and putting it in my desk with a sigh.

Freddie shot me another "look" and I gave him the finger, earning a plethora of snickers from my detention buddies. Carly looked over at me, exasperated.

"Sam, could you just _try_ to behave for once?"

My vision snapped to her and I snarled nastily. "Shut up, Carly. Don't act as though you know everything. The world doesn't revolve around you," I immediately regretted saying that as soon as it came out, so I forced the rest of the evil words I had so badly wanted to say, back into the recesses of my mind. I felt strangely relieved of the tension that had built in my shoulders for so long at having to live behind Carly and her glory, so I smirked devilishly, but soon guilt settled into the conscious I had worked so hard to destroy.

Her big, brown eyes were sparkling with hurt and I sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Carls. I didn't mean it. I'm having a really off day," I clutched my stomach and watched as Freddie noticed me do it, "my stomach's been acting on it's own."

Carly nodded, giving me a smile. "It's alright, Sam. I know how you get." But behind those eyes, I knew she suspected something was wrong. No matter how angry I ever got, I never snapped at _her_. I glared at her through the corner of my eye and she didn't catch it, so I continued until my eyes hurt. Why can't she mind her own business?

I gulped down a large lump that had formed in my throat, and I felt the need to vomit, so I rose my hand and took the pass from Miss Briggs, ignoring her comment on me "trying to get away from learning, but I will not succeed!".

What an idiot. Grow up.

--

When I reached the girls' bathroom, the force of the aches in my stomach took over and I immediately threw one of the stall doors open, tying my hair back with a hair tie, and puking into the toilet even as I kneeled down in front of it. I emptied everything I had ever eaten into that porcelain bowl and when I was finished, I flushed it and collapsed against the metal wall. I suddenly wanted to fall asleep, but went against it, seeing as the floor was dirty from old urine and vomit. I got up and washed my hands, grabbing a bright red lipstick tube from my back pocket and turning to the old bathroom stall door in the back of the girls' room.

The hate board. The one and only door in the entire school that held many lipstick writings from girls all over the school.

"Gawd, Jared P ttly cheated on Missy with that hooker Nicole Rogers!!", "OMG I knew it!", "Aly Qualm is a hore", "Danielle H fukd Jake Krandall in the parkin lott!!", "Freddie Benson is soooo hotttt", followed by a few "I'd do him!!"'s and "he's such a fcking nerdd i can't believe Sam Puckett even hangs out with him and his bitch Carly!!"'s,"FB's got imself a whore, nd her nme is Carly Shay!!", "Roger Dante got head frm Aly Qualm AND her sister", and many, many more, but the one I focused on was the one I was writing. The one I _had_ to write, to get it off my chest.

"Rodney Sullivan's a backstabbing asshole, he totally tried to take advantage of me! I can't believe I fell for him!"

And I knew that when I checked back at the end of school, I would have responses galore.

--

**Freddie Benson**

Something was definitely up with Sam, so I followed her to the bathroom. Not literally, but I did take the pass from Miss Briggs. Someone had shouted, "He's gonna go make a move on Puckett!" earning a laughing outburst from the entire class. I looked to Carly desperately and she shrugged, motioning me to keep going. The same punk who made the comment, well, he made another one.

"Haha, he's signalling Carly to come, too!" The class erupted again into laughter and I watched Carly stand up to defend herself. She yelled some words and Miss Briggs shooed me off, though I stayed while Miss Briggs went to break it up.

The same guy once again opened his big mouth. "Hey, Benson! You should keep your whore under control! You might have to bitchslap her!" People were falling on the floor with uncontrollable laughter and I was internally disgusted with how immature they all were. I left the room without another word.

I crept into the boys' room which opened up right next to the girls' room, I waited.

Within ten minutes of standing stationary behind the boys' room door, I had heard vomitting, something crashing into a metal wall, a sink turning on, and then silence. The girls' room door opened and I glanced through a crack in the door to watch Sam exit the girls' bathroom, shoving a cap on a tube of fluorescent red lipstick. The only thing I noticed as she slapped hands with a punk-rocker girl and a platinum blonde with pink streaks in a ragged, deathly-looking cheerleading outfit, was that Sam didn't have a single coat of the lipstick _on_.

I swiftly entered the girls' bathroom, walking down the long row of stalls, opening them and searching them for any sign that Sam was there. The first stall revealed vomit stains and I cringed, but continued on. She couldn't have just sat here, slitting her wrists or something stupid. She wouldn't do that, and I would have noticed if she did, seeing as she's wearing a t-shirt.

I pressed on each door but on the fourth stall, the door came swinging back at me. Of course, not expecting it, I fell to the floor and hit my head on the metal wall containing it. The door swung back and rammed into my forehead. I grabbed at it with my hand and groaned, knowing it would bruise soon.

The last stall opened and there, on the inside of the door, I saw it. The proof of every girls' bathroom stall myth I had ever heard. It was the hate board, spoken by only the toughest of guys who have been able to experience seeing it, or heard of it from their sisters.

With writing in red, blue, purple, yellow, white, black, and pink lipstick, there it was. The hate board. I touched it's metal frame to see if it was real, and not a dream, but its cold touch sent signals to my nerves that it _was_ there. I exhaled the breath I hadn't known I was holding.

I read the writing with disgust at the immaturity of all the girls in my school. Especially those who called Carly those awful names. I may not be in love with her, but she was still my friend.

The last piece of writing I could immediately tell was Sam's. It had Sam written all over it (metaphorically, of course, despite the many comments about her being extremely kickass, or the idea of her overcoming the government to empower all women, jeez, no wonder Sam's always so pig-headed. People practically worship her.), and the writing style was definitely hers, even if it was almost illegible to a man's eye.

I continued to stare at the words she had deftly written, and I suddenly understood. Everything clicked into place. The reason she was snapping at _Carly_ of all people. The reason why she needed to talk to me with such a passion. Sam was hurt because of how Rodney betrayed her trust.

The last cog jolted into the correct position in my mind. _Just like Jonah_.

I grabbed a lone tube of white lipstick off the ground and began writing a response of my own.

--

When I emerged from the girls' room, Sam was already walking in through the classroom door, the bathroom pass in her back pocket. She cracked her knuckles and the tension rose around the hallway. I entered the classroom a few feet behind her, and the tension collapsed. The class broke out into hysterical laughter, and I knew why. Sam had cracked her knuckles, and I walked in with a bruise. They automatically assumed I had tried to come onto her.

I walked through rows of desks, trying to get back to my seat.

"Nice try, Benson!"

"Smooth, computer nerd!"

"Rejected!"

Impish giggles, taunts, and ridicule. I could handle it. Really.

I looked over at Sam and she shrugged, looking nonchalant. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she wanted this to happen to me.

I looked at her again and she wasn't looking at me, but at the last place she would ever look. At the front of the class.

Sam was actually _paying attention _in class!

By the look in her eyes, I knew exactly what lay in my future. I would have to fight for Sam, against someone who would try to take her from me.

I sighed inwardly and followed her gaze to the chalkboard.

Love was never this difficult with Carly, but then again, I never loved Carly this much.

--

**Samantha Puckett**

Classes ended before I even had time to blink, and I tossed the peel from a banana I had been eating into a nearby trashcan. For the whole day, Carly and Freddie had tried to talk to me, and for the whole day, I didn't look either of them in the eye or even attempt to respond.

I headed straight for the third floor girls' bathroom, and hurried towards the last stall before the janitor had a chance to sneak in and attempt to clean anything off the hate board. I read each response repeatedly.

Yellow lipstick. "Wow, what a friggin jerk!!"

Pink lipstick. "Aww, and I alwys thawt being in jail was badass! I gess hes just a badasshole!!"

Black lipstick. "Hahaha LOL at pinkys comment! Ttly agreed!!"

Blue lipstick. "OMG whitey is either a lezz or a guy, be careful red!!" I noted Red as myself, seeing as I had written in red. I looked for the one they referred to as whitey.

I found red.

Red lipstick. "Dude, whitey is soooo sweet! Sry I had to write in this color, red, it was the only one i had."

I found orange.

Orange lipstick. "Awww, i wish whitey would date meee!! That is if theyre a guy!!"

And then there it was. White.

White lipstick. "Then maybe you should fall for me, instead."

--

When I opened the front door to my house, my babysitter was already there, sitting at the dining room table, mulling over his thoughts. I winced at the big, round bruise that had formed on the left side of his forehead.

He turned and looked at me, "Hey, Sam."

I glowered at him, "Jeez, Freddie. Way to be subtle."

He rose an eyebrow, and then realization flashed through his chocolate eyes.

"Oh, the hate board. Yeah, sorry about that."

I dropped my backpack on the floor and lunged at him. We tumbled to the floor and I made sure that something hit his bruise. Extra pain. He groaned loudly and I glared at him further.

"Sorry? _Sorry!?_" I screeched, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "You have no idea how annoyed I am at you!" Why are you toying with my feelings?

His normally melted, warm, brownie eyes hardened and began to resemble dark chocolate, he got up, towering over me. "Sam!" He shouted, pushing me to the floor. He straddled me but I didn't back down, I'm not going down without a fight. I glared right back up at him.

"You have _no right_ to be angry with me. For all it's worth, I should be the one angry at _you_! I _love_ you, Sam, but yet you refuse to believe me! I couldn't care less what those people at school say about me, but they made fun of Carly, your _best friend_, and you didn't even bat an eyelash! Do you even _care at all!?_"

Tears built up in my unwilling eyes and I turned my head away, not wanting to get caught crying.

"Shut _up, _Freddie. You don't know anything!" I threw my hands up and tried to push at his chest. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them down to the floor.

"No, Sam. I understand _perfectly_." He leaned down, his eyes melting again as he stared me down. His lips brushed against mine and I purred, but within seconds, a shift in my stomach had my eyes snapping open.

I felt the shift turn into a constant swish of something like water, and I panicked.

--

**Freddie Benson**

I had almost succeeded in calming her down when she suddenly began to thrash again in my arms. I held her down.

"Sam, stop! Why are you trying to get away?" She punched at me and I sucked in a breath, confused. I continued to hold her down. "Sam, what-?"

"FREDDIE, LET GO OF ME RIGHT NOW!" She struggled with all her might, sending crashing blows into my chest with her fists. I did not budge.

"FREDDIE, HOLY SHIT LET GO RIGHT NOW. I SWEAR TO _GOD_!" I was so confused, where was she going with this? Why would she battle so fiercely to get away from me?

"No! I won't let you g-" I inhaled so fast I thought I had swallowed my lungs, because she had sent a fatal blow right into my groin. I groaned with ferocity and fell to the ground in pain. She lept up and flew into the bathroom, shutting the door tight and locking it.

While in the fetal position, I noticed blood on the floor from where I had been holding her. Blood? But...

Then it all, once again, clicked into place. The stomach aches in first period, the vomitting, the blood.

Sam was having her period!

--

**Carly Shay**

I had called Harper over to help record a demo tape for an iCarly music video, and when he arrived at the door, I had smiled and led him upstairs so we could work in the studio.

In the middle of our great time, the memory of Sam snapping at me in the morning came to life. I choked back tears as Harper began to press on random keys on his keyboard. He noticed my tears and rushed over to help.

"Hey, Carly! Are you okay? What's up?" He pat my back and I didn't care at all about anything, I let the tears come out full force.

"Harper," I sobbed, "I don't know what's happening between Sam and me...ever since the bus incident, she's been upset at every turn and I just don't know how to help her." I put my hands over my eyes and leaned into him.

"What am I going to do! Our friendship is falling apart!" I know I had called him there to help with iCarly, but at the moment all I really needed was a shoulder to cry on. He held me close and I hugged him.

"It's okay, Carls. Sam and you are best friends, you always will be." I nodded, the tears finally fading. I smiled and pulled him closer.

"Thanks, Harper." He gave me a dazzling smile and nodded.

"Don't worry about it."

--

**Samantha Puckett**

"Ugh, I hate all of you!" I yelled at the tiled walls of the bathtub, having already removed the bloody evidence from my person and changed into a new pair of undergarments, with a pad securely in place. I sat in said tub, clad only in my underwear and bra, holding my knees up to my chin and rocking back and forth, damning period cramps and my burning uterus to hell.

"Sam, come out." Freddie murmured from behind the bathroom door. I gave him the finger, even though he couldn't see it.

"Fuck you!" I shouted, knowing I full well could without being blamed for it afterwards. I was, after all, a hormonal woman.

"Sam, come on. It can't be that bad." I started to screech and he groaned in annoyance, jiggling the stationary doorknob on the bathroom door. It was locked from the inside.

"Aren't you hungry?" He added, and I glanced over at an emergency supply of granola bars I had hidden in the bathroom closet, just in case this were to ever happen to me.

Really, I plan ahead way too specifically.

"No!" I shouted back truthfully, because the burning sensation that had spread throughout my lower hips really charred anything I attempted to digest.

I could hear him try to unlock the door with a bobby pin and I rolled my eyes at his pathetic attempt. I swished my knees closer to myself and only hissed in pain at the friction caused in both my flaming uterus, and the sensitivity my breasts had now acquired. I tried to shove my knees closer to myself again, only to cry out because I couldn't fit them any further. I pounded on the floor of the tub and screeched again.

"STUPID _BOOBS!!_ WHY CAN'T YOU JUST GO AWAY!?"

I heard Freddie snort, trying to sound like a man with a complaining wife, but I knew, oh I _knew_, that behind that solid wooden door, he was blushing like an idiot.

"Stop blushing, Fredward!" I screamed, and he spluttered.

"I was not!"

I heard the lock click and I felt Freddie's victory aura surround me, and my only barrier from the outside world began to open.

"DON'T OPEN THAT-"

The door swung open and in walked that smug little nerd, spinning the bobby pin around his pointer finger. He rose an eyebrow at me and I chucked an empty shampoo bottle at his face, which he dodged.

"Sam?" He asked.

"What?" I replied, through gritted teeth.

"Why are you hiding your body with a shower curtain?"

"Because I fucking WANT TO! Is that a PROBLEM?" I screeched. He blinked and shook his head.

"I guess not, but why are you?"

I mocked him, "I don't know, Fredward," I scrunched up my nose, "maybe I'm NAKED?"

He spluttered for probably the fifteenth time today and fell backwards on the floor. His face brightened considerably with color and I glared at him.

"N-n-na-, wh-why would y-you b-b-be n-n-n-naked?"

If it was possible, my glare intensified. "Oh, I don't know, Fredward. Maybe because clothes are meant to keep us warm and my UTERUS is already a fucking furnace! Not to mention my breasts are completely unwilling to be binded by ANYTHING at the moment! Ugh!" I threw my hands up in the air, completely exasperated.

"God, Freddie! Wait until you're old enough to have your period, then you'll understand!" I stood up, my hands on my hips, and within a few short seconds, I realized I had already exited the safety of my bathub and shower curtain, and was now two thin pieces of clothing away from being completely nude in front of Freddie.

His face was heated and I could tell he was having trouble breathing _and_ swallowing. I glared at him again, completely tempted to step on and destroy the growing bulge in his pants that was formed from the very opposite of what could be considered badinage.

"Freddie?" I muttered, annoyed yet free of anger, "I'm starting to think all you really want from me is sex."

He finally swallowed that gasping breath he had been holding in. He grabbed my hand as I attempted to walk away with what little dignity I had left, and I, unceremoniously, fell right onto the floor in front of him. His eyes bored into mine.

"Sam," His gaze hardened, "never say that again. I _love_ you, and even though I-" he paused, his cheeks tinting pink, "-_appreciate_ your body, I care about you with every fiber of my being. Factor one being that if I did, erm, _have my way with you,_" I almost laughed at how utterly foreign that sounded, coming from Freddie. "we would be married first."

I stared at him. _'Marriage?'_

"Factor two being that I love not just your body, but your mind and your personality. The way you think, the way you talk, it's who you are. There isn't anybody else like you. And factor three, I respect you too much, even if you did just completely blow your usually threatening demeanor by complaining about your-" He stopped, considering his words, "'flaming uterus.'" He added dryly.

I paused to catch my breath, staring at him in wonder.

"I won't touch you unless you want me to, Sam. Please understand that." He stood up, taking me with him, and dropping a towel around my shoulders that wrapped around and hid my exposed body.

"Now, please, put something on."

And with that, he left me to my thoughts.

--

**Fin! Hope you enjoyed.**


	7. The Shit Has Hit The Fan: Night 5

Hello all, I know I said I would be on hiatus, but I was startled by inspiration.

**Disclaimer: I don't not own iCarly, The Other Boleyn Girl, Death Note, or any of the movies described below. They all belong to their rightful owners.**

**Warning: Spoilers! for all those who haven't seen "The Other Boleyn Girl" the movie. It rocks, I suggest seeing it!**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Seven:**

_The Shit Has Hit the Fan_

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sam's cellphone went off with a text message. She picked up the silver Virgin Mobile flip-phone, flicking the lamp next to her on and opening the lid to see she had gotten a message from a number that she could have sworn she recognized.

A bloodcurdling scream rang through the night.

"_Let's get back together. :)"_

_"Love, Jonah."_

--

**The Author**

Night Five.

By the time Samantha got the call from her parents that Freddie would have to stay the night, she had already returned home from school and was staring blankly out the window.

"Lock the doors and windows," They urged, "that boy from the bus may try and come after you." She heard her mother whimper. "Oh, Johnathon, I don't think we should leave Sam there all by herself. What if-?" Her father interrupted, "-Alice, stop worrying so much. Freddie is there to protect her, they have all the emergency contact numbers, Uncle Robert is right down the street, and Rodney-" Sam flinched. "-and his parents are a few feet away."

Alice sighed, "Alright, if you say so. Sammy, keep yourself safe. Stay close to Freddie."

She heard her father take the phone, "But not _too_ close."

"Johnathon! Freddie is a responsible young man,"

"I mostly meant Sam."

"Oh. Anyway, please be careful, sweetheart! Don't leave the house, alright? Freddie's mother should be calling him any minute now to tell him about the plans. Maybe you and Freddie can watch a movie!"

"Yeah, thanks mom. I love you. Have fun." Her voice seemed almost dead to her, but her parents did not take notice, thinking she was still just annoyed at being the "baby" part of "babysitter".

"We love you, too, darling! Dinner's in the fridge, and your father and I will be back tomorrow afternoon."

Sam nodded once, inwardly wondering how it was possible for Freddie's mother to have allowed him to stay with her for an entire school day. She quirked an eyebrow at her own thoughts, tracing the outline of her face that was reflected in the rain-streaked window with her finger.

"Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, mom."

And she hung up.

Two minutes and nineteen seconds later (yes, she counted), Freddie's mobile phone rung. Or, more like talked. It was his mother's voice, repeating the same words over and over again.

"_Wash your underwear, don't touch strange things, don't touch pointy things, don't go towards the white light, if you faint don't eat bologna, apply cloud block every sixteen minutes and apply in medium-sized circles, MEDIUM-SIZED! Don't eat chap stick, don't stick your hand down the toile-" _It was interuppted by Freddie answering it, having returned from the kitchen where he was heating up dinner for the two of them.

Sam snorted as he hit the "talk" button, and he momentarily glared at her, huffing in embarrassment.

"Yes, mother?" He asked as he answered, causing Sam to snicker even louder. He ignored her.

"Tomorrow afternoon?" Freddie shot a glance at Sam, and she shrugged. He sighed, "Yeah, it's not like I had anything else planned." Sam chortled, trying to pass her giggles off as coughs. She coughed "nerd" loudly and Freddie tapped his foot, almost tempted to stomp it on the ground like an annoyed little girl.

"Yes, mother. I understand. I love you, too. Yes, mother. Yes...yes...no..." She heard ear-shattering screech on the other side of the line. Freddie winced. "Alright, mom! I'll put on the stupid cloud block! Yes, yes, I know. Goodbye." She heard his mother continue to speak, but he clicked the phone off.

Sam merely blinked at him, oblivious to the fact that he still owned cloud block, and scrunched her nose, accusatory. "Wait, so why are you allowed to stay here until tomorrow afternoon anyway? What about school?"

"There's a randomly-scheduled teacher's conference tomorrow."

Sam nodded, seemingly lost in thought as she watched Freddie walk into the kitchen. He carefully carried two plates of re-heated mac and cheese and handed one to the menstruating carb-craver in front of him.

Her blue eyes twinkled at the sight of food, "I love you, you know that?" She mumbled, hunched over the starch-enhanced noodles.

Freddie's heart thudded in his chest, and he smiled.

"Yeah, I know."

--

By eight, they were spread out on the couch, opposite each other, Sam's frozen legs tangled with Freddie's. He hissed, "_Sam_. You're legs are like ice."

"I know, what do you expect? I'm wearing shorts and it's 60-something degrees in this ice box you call a house."

"Then put on some pants or something if you're so cold!"

Sam rolled her eyes, "_Fine._" And got up, running to her room. She returned, moments later, clad in old, dark grey sweatpants with a blue paint stain on the right leg. Freddie eyed it.

"Stage crew in sixth grade?" He wondered out loud. Sam nodded and joined him on the couch where she had just been.

"So, what movie will we have the pleasure of watching today?" The blonde tapped her chin as she said this.

Freddie picked up the remote, scanning through the movies that were listed on the TiVo.

"Atonement, Serendipity, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days, Something's Gotta Give, When Harry Met Sally, Never Been Kissed, Titanic..." Freddie chuckled, "Never took you as a 'chick-flick' kinda girl..."

Sam glared at him, "Shut up."

He continued to ponder over movies, "Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanimo Bay?"

"Seen it."

"Sweeney Todd?"

"Seen it."

"Juno?"

"Seen it."

"...Death Note Live-Action?"

Sam jumped from her place, covering Freddie's eyes. He stared into her palm, flabbergasted.

"You will tell _no one _that I like japanese stuff. Okay? I've got a reputation to hold up."

Freddie nodded once, and Sam returned to her seat, crossing her arms as if the entire scenario had been completely normal. He shook it off, continuing to look through the list.

"The Other Boleyn Girl-"

"LET'S WATCH IT!"

--

By the time an hour and a half had passed, Sam had already laughed hysterically, cried twice, sobbed into Freddie's shirt, hidden her face from the screen out of fright, and polished off her plate of macaroni.

"Wow, Sam," he mumbled into her ear, awkwardly patting her back to soothe her tears, "I've never seen you so emotional before."

This statement earned him a swift punch in the stomach. He sucked in the last bit of air that he had, tears springing in eyes at the unexpected blow.

"_Ow_," he enunciated roughly, clutching his stomach. "That was so uncalled for!" He squeaked.

Sam rolled her eyes. "You should've seen it coming."

--

At ten, Sam stood up and stretched, untangling herself from the peacefully sleeping Freddie. She crawled up the stairs to get ready for bed, not noticing the dark, soulless eyes that watched her from behind a wooden panel on the stairway.

She fell asleep, placing her cell phone in it's usual place, next to her alarm clock (which was thankfully switched off).

When her digital clock struck three in the morning, her cell phone jingled with an incoming text. She blindly swiped a hand across the wood of her desk, finding the switch to her lamp and flicking it on, all the while opening the lid to her phone and sitting up, propped up with a pillow, to see who the text was from.

The first thing she noticed was the number. It was familiar, as if she had commited herself or something important to it.

The second thing she noticed, with the highest grade of irritation, was that she was submerged in her own blood. Blood that she did _not_ want to move from because _damn it_, she didn't know _how_ she was going to escape from the confines of her own bed in dripping, red short-shorts that no longer held a hint of the green color that they once were. Sam grimaced.

The third was movement on the covers of her bed. The movement was faint, practically a figment of imagination, until she saw it again.

It was swift and quick, but it was there. Sam sealed her mouth shut so she could come up with an idea of how to escape her blood bath, but it eventually popped open. She breathed in as much air as she could, and let it out.

As a scream.

An ear-shattering, blood-curdling scream of absolute dread and horror.

"_SPIDER_!"

--

**Oh yus. The author is terrified of spiders. xD**


	8. Frickin' Pranksters!: Day 6, 7, 8 & 9

**Author's Note: I'd just like to thank Miss-Frenchie for beta-ing this chapter! :D And thank you to all my loyal reviewers and lurkers (I'm ON to you!), and more specifically;**

**4everyoung, Sk8erGal1208, callmecari, starfreak101, colorsofthesky101, james is my boi, Heartsong's Fanfictions, crazy4oliver, carii, kayee.143, envythorn93, strawberrybabecutie, earth-fairy2006, Nature9000, xxMissCutiexx, Half-Ghost, broadwayXaddict, iMIMI37, WritingSia, iHeart Nathan Kress, CrayonsAndSunlight, Seddie4EVER29, tootsieXpopXdiscovery, LORELAI THE COFFEE SLAYER (my one true love xD and very dedicated reviewer who helped me out of my hiatus-worthy slump), Miss-Frenchie (my beta x3), alie, Irishhoney13, staterfs, RhiannonG, 1XTEMPLE of cHEESEX4, ForgottenLovedOne, Taya Anne, zucolover77, babycobweb, Endo-Venom, and last, but definitely not least! Catherine!**

**Thanks to all of you, I have returned from hiatus and will be continuing on with this story, and remember! The longer your reviews, the happier I am (xD)!**

**OH, and I am also taking story requests now! For both iCarly and Death Note (if you watch it xD). I will write anything at all! The first one to request a multi-chapter will be getting one, but after that is started, I will only be taking one-two-three-and four shot requests!**

**Enjoy, Chapter Eight!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly or the movie "Just Friends".**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

_Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday (Day 6, 7, 8 & 9)_

**Chapter Eight:**

_Frickin' Pranksters!_

**Freddie Benson**

"KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT, KILL IT! FREDDIE, KILL IT _NOW_!" To say I was flustered was a complete and total understatement. I was scared out of my _mind_. I had been dreaming peacefully about re-routing an electrical curcuit, and then Sam starts screaming like a banshee!

_What did I do to deserve this? _I sulked, running upstairs quickly, searching for the sight of the screams. They led me into Sam's room, the one place where I was treading on thin ice between Sam's privacy. Though, I doubt that was the first thing on her mind, seeing as a daddy long-legs was rearing and ready to pounce onto her.

I swooped into action, fist clenched like a missile detonator was in my hand.

"I got it, I got it!" I shouted, quivering slightly in disgust at the smushed arachnid that was now lying on the flat of my palm. Sam's expression told me she was about five seconds away from vomitting. She made gagging motions and noises, so I rushed to the bathroom to wash off the remnants.

When I returned, Sam was shivering, her skin a deathly pale color.

"Jeez, Sam, you're such a wimp." I chuckled quietly at her, giving a teasing smile. She rose from her position on the bed, tackling me to the ground.

"You'll regret saying that, Fredward." I raised my once-contaminated hand at her and she flew across the room, away from me.

"That'll take some getting used to," She muttered, trying to regain a normal breathing pattern.

I laughed, until I noticed the giant red blood stain that took up the entire one side of the bed.

"What in God's name...?" I said while standing up from my position on the floor. Sam stood up as well.

"I, uh...bled. In my sleep. _Heh._" I merely pinched my nose and stared at the red puddle.

"Crap."

--

Sam and I had (carefully) gotten the sheets down the stairs (there were _a lot _of them, apparently Sam's mother had planned for this to happen, since it "always does" as Sam said, and it "always sinks into the mattress pad if there aren't enough". Eugh.) and the grandfather clock had struck one in the afternoon. I was tired beyond all recognition, so we quickly jammed all of sheets into the giant washer and dumped in what was left of the laundry detergent.

I would have laughed as Sam uncomfortably waddled up the stairs with a giant red stain on the back of her shorts and dried blood stuck to the backs of her legs, if it weren't for the fact that it smelled absolutely horrid, and looked like a murder scene.

As soon as she had gotten out of the shower and put on some clothes, breakfast had been consumed and she was now relaxing at the dining room table watching "Just Friends" and painting her toes with pale pink polish, her feet propped up on the wooden arm of her chair.

She snickered as Mike tazered Samantha and she flipped over the balcony at the mall scene, and I rolled my eyes.

"Why do you do that to your nails?" I wondered out loud, gesturing to the polish. "It looks like you stepped in paint."

Sam shrugged, "That's what Harper said, too. I dunno, I just like it. He said guys don't mind pale colors, since it's pretty, yet not obnoxious." She nodded, almost confirming this to herself.

"Yeah, totally."

I folded my legs up, perched on the chair like a bird.

"So..."

"So..." She repeated, twisting the cap back onto the nail polish jar with a resounding "squeak!". She turned to look at me, her feet falling to the floor.

"Wanna go to the mall?"

--

And so, Sam and I made a trip to the Seattle Centre Mall, where every store you pass by gets girlier and girlier.

"This was the worst idea ever..." I muttered to myself as I was dragged into yet another lipgloss emporium.

"Yeah, it was, _for you_." Sam replied, giggling to herself. I glared at the back of her head.

"Hey, do you have any money?"

I blinked, looking over to see Sam gazing longingly at some girly sparkly lipgloss. I shuddered.

"Ah, why? You don't plan on stealing it?" I asked seriously, because you really never know with Sam.

"Nope." She said, turning around and walking back to where I was leaning against a railing, swirling a gumball in my mouth that I had gotten from a crank machine.

"Not to say that I don't approve of you finally paying for something-" I said as I handed her the money. _Even if it's with my money._ "-but it seems you've gone soft, dear Samantha."

She whipped around to look at me, her eyes ablaze.

"'_Soft'_?" She repeated, looking appauled.

I nodded.

She glared at me as she slammed the money down for the lipgloss, scaring the living daylights out of the woman at the register. The woman handed Sam her change and she forcefully shoved it into my pocket as we exited the store I now knew as "Shop Gloss".

"I have not gone _soft_." She muttered, glaring hatefully at a plastic plant that we passed by. She unscrewed the cap of her new cherry-scented, pale white lipgloss, and applied a thin sheen of it over her lips. Even if I didn't know why, I watched this unconscious move attentively.

"I bet you can't even get in trouble anymore." I said thoughtfully, still eyeing her lips. Her eyes narrowed even further.

"I can _too_." She hissed.

"Wanna bet?"

Her malicious frown turned into a malicious smile, and I shuddered. _What have I done?_

"I bet you couldn't get in trouble even once this week."

"And I bet I could!"

"Then what're the stakes?"

"Hmm...Loser dresses up as the opposite gender for an entire day at school. No changing."

My jaw dropped, but I shook her hand anyway.

"Deal."

_I just set myself up to lose!_

--

By the time we arrived back at Sam's house, our stomachs were grumbling forcefully, so we worked together to cook dinner. The grandfather clocked donged six times.

"So..." I started, breathing in the delicious smell of the steaming lamb liver. "Why are we making liver?"

"Because it's high in iron, which I am dizzily-" She swayed a bit and I caught her, and her point, "-deficient in after this morning's blood bath."

I nodded, convinced. "Alright." I was happy for the period-blood smell to have been perished, both by the steaming liver's distinct smell, and the febreeze I had practically dumped all over Sam's room and the entire house.

"You don't mind?" She asked, swallowing a pill for her headache.

"Nope," I sighed, "it was liver night tonight at my house, anyway."

She laughed and went back to her cooking.

--

Day Seven

**Samantha Puckett**

"So, it's like, our one week anniversary." I said conversationally, examining my newly-painted nails.

Freddie sputtered, "Our _what_?" He asked me, his eyes resembling a deer in headlights.

"Our one week anniversary."

"For?"

"For when you first started babysitting me."

A look of realization passed across his face and he grinned, "Yeah, I guess it is."

I nodded, "You're also going to lose this bet."

He rolled his eyes, "I kind of figured that, seeing as you're the school's top prankster."

He saluted, confirming it.

"True, true. I'll have this school up in flames by Friday."

He blinked, "Today's Wednesday."

I smirked.

"Exactly," and gave him a peck on the lips, to which he leaned closer to me, wanting more, but I denied it.

"And by the way," I whispered, "happy anniversary."

--

**Freddie Benson**

She was right.

By the end of the day, the fire-alarm had already been pulled, a bucket filled with ice cold guacamole had fallen onto Miss. Briggs, live worms were found crawling around in Elizabeth Wheeler's locker, the microwave in the teacher's lounge had caught fire (but that was a weekly thing), the halls had been waxed crazy and everyone slipped and slid across the floors, papers flying everywhere.

And Sam had been caught at every scene, except for the locker-thing and the microwave-thing

When she arrived home (three hours after the time she usually gets back from school), she explained to me (while I was watching the Technology channel) that she had gotten two weeks detention and In-School-Suspension for the rest of the week.

"Wow." Was all I could say, and we turned back to the television screen without another word.

--

Day Eight

Sam's parents had come home last night, cheery as ever and giving Sam big hugs and kisses as they arrived. Little did they know, Sam was in _alot_ of trouble.

Today, Sam made sure to prank every single teacher. Every. Single. One.

It did not end well.

"'_Samantha'_," Sam mimicked Principal Franklin when she arrived home, once again three hours later than usual. "'_Because of your unusual prank-streak these past two days, I'm going to have to ban you from the dance.'_"

I stared at her, "You're banned from the dance?"

She nodded, "But I'm going anyway."

"Do you even have a date?"

"Rodney."

I frowned. This was not good.

Day Nine

**Samantha Puckett**

On Friday, I got some news that was _definitely_ not good. Not good at all.

"Samantha," Said my dad, and I noticed the new-found authority in his voice sounded eerily similar to that of Principal Franklin's, "you are in _big_ trouble."

And frankly, I didn't doubt it.

"I don't think this babysitter is working out, darling."

I stared at my parents, unblinking. _Freddie isn't going to be my babysitter anymore?_

I felt a smile start on my face, _Freddie won't be my babysitter anymore!_

"We're going have to move on to the new one."

I frowned. _New one?_

My eyes widened, though very slightly.

_Oh..._

"We're calling Rodney Sullivan. He hasn't gotten into any trouble at all this year, and he saved you from that boy on the bus!"

_Oh._

_Frick._

* * *

**End of Chapter Eight, my darlings! :D**

**Hope you enjoyed. Please R&R!**


	9. I Feel Like A Liar: Day 12

**Sorry, luffs. This is kind of a filler chapter. D: I promise, though, that the next chapter**

**...will probably suck. Ugh. Worry not, my faithful readers! I have the plot entirely figured out, I'm just trying to work out the details that will make the story un-suck. LOTS OF REVIEWS WILL MAKE ME HAPPY. :D**

**...Especially _you_, lurkers.**

**And Lorelai the Coffee Slayer, who is my new obsession and of whom I stalk. xD WATCH UR BACX, IV GAWT CARDBORD.**

**I have no idea what that means.**

**Also, I know the tense is a little confusing. I think I switched back and forth between past and present tense somewhere in there. Sorry. D:**

**ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Nine:**

_I Feel Like a Liar_

**Samantha Puckett**

I had Saturday and Sunday to think of a plan- to think of how I'm going to break it to Freddie that he's being replaced.

Well...

_It's not _that_ big a deal, right?_ I tried to imagine what his reaction would be.

_"Freddie, it turns out we're switching babysitters. Sorry. Really, I am."_

_And then he glares at me, "I hate you, Sam. How could you do this to me?"_

Crap.

--

Saturday (Day Ten)

When I awoke on Saturday morning, I spent all my time searching my room for my cell phone. I hadn't had it with me for the entire week, and needed it now. I was worried, what if I missed a call from Carly?

I inhaled and choked on air. Carly! iCarly was tonight! Double crap!

All I could do now was think, what was I gonna do when I saw Freddie? Just ignore him? Yeah. Ignore him. That's it. Just pretend he's not there. It shouldn't be hard.

I eventually found my cell phone, which had unceremoniously been tossed from my desk into the curtains on the window after the spider incident.

I shuddered at the memory, picking it up and checking to see if I had any messages. I had three. Two from Carly, and one from an unknown number. I rose an eyebrow after I finished reading Carly's messages, both of which read: "iCarly on Saturday at six, don't forget!" and "iCarly tonight at six, be there!", and opened the third one.

My breathing stopped.

_Jonah._

Triple crap.

--

Six came way too fast. The only thing holding me back from bolting was the promise of a turkey sandwich and the idea of complete humiliation coming much later than sooner, but still coming. Nothing is ever easy, is it?

When I reached Carly's, realization dawned on exactly how half-assed my outfit was. White t-shirt and jeans. No patterns, no converse, just sneakers. It may not seem like much to a complete stranger, but it was a big change from what I'm used to.

I didn't look at Freddie. Okay, maybe I did, when he wasn't looking at _me_. I would glance out of the corners of my eyes, or discreetly turn a little, just to see him, but never his face. Only the back of his head, because I couldn't risk confrontation.

Stepping in front of the camera, I got a glance at his face for the first time that evening.

_I'd leave Edward Cullen for him._ Was a thought that I couldn't help but remember, and I smiled outwardly to myself. Carly sent me a curious look, and I smiled wider, faking it just a little bit because I had some things to settle with her as well.

"Just thinking about that one trip we made to the mall- when we saw Mr. Howard in the bra shop." She grinned her pretty smile, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated happiness that I was thinking about something that included _her _and _I_. I almost frowned, because she just seemed so _fake_, so _plastic_ with crime-solving thoughts, happiness and a sham of a personality as her motivation, but didn't. I would not blow my cover just because I was being speculative, though I couldn't help but lose myself to my thoughts.

What separates me from Carly? From Bella and from all the heroines of story-book fantasy? I knew exactly what it was. Drive. I may not have the best grades, but I'm not _stupid_. I know exactly what's going on when I want to, and if I'd rather lie to myself or act like an idiot, I will. I _can_. But they can't. They are all hellbent on thinking everything through. They act like mistakes are never an option and the end result is always in their favor.

It just doesn't work that way for me.

If I think something through, there's always some obstacle. Something so completely unexpected yet obvious. Like a message from God showing me the way _not_ to go, making me feel so frustrated that I realize this _isn't_ the way to go, yet obvious, to make it look like it turned it up because I missed some little detail.

No matter what, though, I eventually reached what I want. Slowly, unlike the others, who reach their goal and accomplished many things all at once, I reach what I want slowly but surely, and in the end...

In the end,

...In the end...

I win so much more.

--

I refused to think about Jonah. Why? It's obvious. If I continue to stress myself out, I'm going to start monologuing out loud and build up an aneurysm.

Filming for iCarly, Saturday night, and Sunday passed by quickly, albeit the dragged-out church scenario, where I sat in the pews, praying to God for some help and (somewhat...) mocking the priests for something they said or for something they did. By the time we reached the car to go home, I felt refreshed, replenished, and a little sad.

Monday (Day 12)

On Monday, I just held my breath, and never let it go. I did not talk to Freddie, ignored the floral skirt over his jeans and the wig and the makeup. Did not laugh, did not look. I couldn't. Not with this guilt eating me away.

Guilt? I wondered, and realized I was indeed guilty. Guilty that I had wanted Freddie out of my house so badly- and now he was going to be leaving, and guilty (though slightly less) because I had stolen Freddie's cell phone to make sure his mother did not interfere. From what I could tell, Freddie did not know he was being replaced. Yet. Which was good.

_I_ wanted to be the one to tell him, because I knew that if I didn't...

I'd never live it down.

His outfit was gone by lunch, and I couldn't help but smile a little when he did an impression of the cafeteria lady who served us meaty slop on a daily basis.

Carly, Freddie, and I parted ways at the end of school. Carly to her home, Freddie to Computer Club (the nerd) until four twenty, and I to detention.

Four o'clock came quicker than it should have. Yes, four, because of my well-earned detentions. Unlike the times when I usually want it to pass, and it drags on, I actually wanted to sit there forever, and ended up leaving before my thoughts had returned to earth.

I opened the door, hoping to find an empty house. I did.

If only for a moment.

The grandfather clock read 4:35- Freddie would be home (well, would be returning to _my_ home) soon. I mentally tried to prepare myself for oncoming doom.

The front door opened, and there stood he.

Just not the _he_ I had expected.

"Uhh...hey there, Rodney."

"Hey, Sam! Your mom told me to stop by whenever you got home. Detention, huh?" He grinned at me.

I gulped, nodding shortly, not exactly having full control over my body anymore. "...Yeah. Detention." The door opened again, and I probably would have started to cry if not for my master control over my emotions.

"Sam, I'm back from Computers. Do you have any idea where my cell could have go-what the hell is going on here?" He fumed, glaring at Rodney with such a deep hatred that I was a little frightened. _Me_, frightened. Really.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Freddie spat, and I couldn't help but feel like this was becoming a little cliched.

"None of your business, Benson!" Rodney fired back, standing in front of me and I almost rolled my eyes at his attempt of protection.

"I have a _right_ to know, Sullivan. I _am_ her babysitter." Rodney smirked.

"Oh, really? I'm going to have to disagree."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Freddie said fiercely, his fists clenched and eyebrow raised.

"You're not my babysitter, Freddie..." I started, stepping in front of Rodney and looking into his big brown eyes.

I frowned, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to throw myself at him in a big bear hug.

"At least... not anymore."

**End chapter nine.**

**R&R my loves!**


	10. You're Hot Then You're Cold: Day 13 & 14

**Hello all! :D I apologize for having taken so much time to write this, I have to attend SCHOOL now! D:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.**

Seven Hundred Fifty Hours

**Chapter Ten:**

_You're Hot Then You're Cold_

**The Author**

"What do you mean I'm not your babysitter anymore?" His eyebrows furrowed, and his cellphone suddenly went off. He opened it unwillingly.

"Hello?" He asked, and all Sam could do was stare.

"Mom?" Freddie answered, "What do you mean I was fired?" Realization flooded into his chocolate brown eyes as his mother spoke.

"Oh. I see. Yeah, I'll be home in half an hour." Rodney's expression was smug as Freddie glared at the two, turned, and walked out of the house without another word.

"Freddie, wait!" Sam called, but he didn't stop walking away.

--

**Samantha Puckett**

This is all just turning into some big, stupid melodrama Soap that my mom would watch. This was not a good plan. I watched, defeated, as Freddie hurried out my front door. Rodney smiled and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Touch me again," I started as I picked up his arm and flipped him over my shoulder, his back cracking loudly as he hit the ground with a thud. "And I'll make sure you'll be walking with a cane at prom."

I glared at his twitching body, stepped over him, and proceded to tire the living crap out of myself chasing Freddie to the bus stop.

I reached him as his left foot was just about to step onto the bus, and he turned to look at me. He seemed stunned and I almost rolled my eyes. It should've been obvious that I was going to chase after him. Right?

I tackled him to the ground and we went tumbling a few feet away from his original standing place.

"What are you doing!?" He shouted, clearly flabbergasted at my fast-paced Baywatch Run. (Yes, I am that hot. Thank you very much.)

"I'm trying to stop you from doing something stupid- like run away from me." The door closed and the vehical pulled away.

It would be obvious to anyone that I was straddling him, a position I should really stop making a habit of. He looked a bit red.

"Why would you care?" He said angrily, and I noticed that fury was coloring his cheeks, not embarrassment.

"Because I just do."

The second bus pulled up next to us and a bus driver (different than the usual pervy male of which we all know and are creeped out by) opened the steaming door, giving us a glance of confusion. I waved him away and his bus veered off down the road.

"I thought you didn't want me to be your babysitter anymore?"

I rolled my eyes. "But that doesn't mean we can't still be friends."

His melted chocolate eyes dropped down. "Yeah, friends..."

I stared him down, frowning. "What's wrong now?"

He looked like was about to say something life-changing, but he was interuppted by a dazed expression that suddenly crossed his face.

"Sam..." He whispered, seeming almost intoxicated by the amazing scent of my new perfume.

"Yeah?" I whispered back, leaning over his face.

"You..."

"Mhmm?" I said a little louder.

"...Are heavier than you look."

I froze.

"GEEEEEEEKKKKKK!"

--

**Freddie Benson**

I am _such_ a mood-ruiner. Really. I've never noticed it before, but I can't seem to keep myself all steamy and attractive when I'm around Sam. The lusty look she gets is just so...so...cute! I can't help but just joke around with her.

It's not like I was actually _upset_ at hearing I wasn't Sam's babysitter anymore, I was just trying to be dramatic. Even though I'm _still_ annoyed that she's going to be alone with that..._jerk_.

Maybe I'll just have to show up at her door one night and just surprise her.

Haha, as if.

...

Or maybe that would work...

**Samantha Puckett**

I waited twenty more minutes with Freddie until the bus came around again, and waved goodbye to Freddie as he walked on.

Walking home, I found an empty soda can crushed on the side walk. I kicked it across the pavement until I reached my house, and walked in the door that I hadn't closed when I ran off to find Freddie. Hopefully no animals had snuck in while Rodney was passed out.

I shut the door and relished in the warmth my house offered to me.

"Rodney." I kicked his side.

No response.

I kicked it again and spoke a little louder. "Rodney!"

He didn't even budge.

I slammed my foot into his ribcage and he was jarred awake. "ROOOOODNEEEEEY!"

"Wha-What!? I'll give you your money tomorrow!"

I had, literally, _no clue_ what he was talking about, so I decided to milk it.

"Good. Twenty bucks, by noon."

"Okay, okay. I'm going back to sleep no-"

He passed out again.

"Weird..." I muttered as I trekked upstairs and lay down on my bed.

Day 13

**Samantha Puckett**

"So, nerd, where's your girl costume?"

I walked up to Freddie that morning to make sure he fufilled his part of the deal.

"What girl costume?" He wondered aloud, and I rolled my eyes at his ignorance.

"We made a bet, geek. Remember?"

Realization flashed through his chocolate irises. "Ohh..._ that_ bet."

"Yeah, _that bet_."

That realization was soon replaced with fear. "Umm... do I have to?" His normally deep, baritone voice sounded oddly high-pitched.

"Yes. Yes you do."

"Damn."

**End chapter ten.**

**R&R my loves!**


	11. Uh Oh

**AUTHOR'S NOTE OF DOOM:**

Hello there, lovely reviewers! It's BOTH.

Listen, I have some good news and some bad news. D:

I'm going to discontinue this story.

I'M SORRY!

But don't worry, it's not going to be gone forever.

I've just got some planning to do.

I believe I have to re-write this story, really, I do, because it has so many flaws and I'm just not happy with it. I want to make something I feel is worthy to put my name on, and to me, this just isn't.

The (new) first chapter will be posted up by March, maybe April.

BUT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE:

I'm making a NEW STORY!

Called The Prediction Book

And once I've got the beta-ed version back from my LOVEEEELYYYY beta, Miss-Frenchie, it's going up! And I promise, I will be much more frequent (PROMISE!) with updating The Prediction Book, and I will also have a clearer plot for it. Seven Hundred Fifty Hours was just...unorganized and I never had a clear ending in my head.

SO!

I've decided to redo it and I PROMISE PROMISE PROMISE it will be MUCH better! No lie!

Anyway, PLEASE ENJOY MY NEW FIC; The Prediction Book

Peace, Love, and Fanfiction,

Bucket On the Head.


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